


New Music: Act Two

by ChocolatteKitty_Kat



Series: New Music: the 50s AU [2]
Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1950s, Alternate Universe - Bands, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Music, Background Poly, Band Fic, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Music, Light Angst, Multi, Music, Polyamorous Character, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:02:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 31,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29015550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocolatteKitty_Kat/pseuds/ChocolatteKitty_Kat
Summary: Jack Kelly and his friends start a band that quickly grows in popularity, despite increasing opposition from Principal Pulitzer. Follow the kids over four acts, through new friendships and relationships, personal growth, and much more. This is Act Two. Find the full fic, plus playlists and background materials, at @starship-squidlet on Tumblr.
Relationships: Albert DaSilva & Racetrack Higgins, Crutchie & Jack Kelly, Crutchie & Tommy Boy, Darcy Reid & Bill Hearst & Original Male Character(s), David Jacobs/Original Female Character(s), Finch & Mush Meyers, Finch & Mush Meyers & Original Female Character(s), Henry & Boots (Newsies), Jack Kelly & The Newsies, Jack Kelly/Katherine Plumber Pulitzer, Katherine Plumber Pulitzer/Original Female Character(s), Racetrack Higgins & Jack Kelly, Racetrack Higgins & Original Female Character(s), Spot Conlon & JoJo de la Guerra
Series: New Music: the 50s AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2128572





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Newsies or anything you may recognize from it. I do not own the music used in this fic. All of those things belong to their respective owners. I also do not own Cora Higgins—she belongs to @the-cowbi on Tumblr, and I’m super grateful to Mouse for letting me borrow her!!! I do own this story, Elaine and her family, and pretty much everything else not stated above.

The next morning, Pulitzer and Snyder’s intrusion on the auditions was already little more than a distant memory, at least for most of the teenagers. Jack, Albert, Cora, Race, and Elaine met up, as they usually did, a few blocks away from the school to walk the rest of the distance together. Albert and Elaine walked ahead of the other three, Albert chattering about the most recent sci-fi flick to hit theatres,  _ It Came From Outer Space _ , while Elaine nodded absently. Jack walked in silence, and Cora and Race kept their conversation to a minimum.

“Jack? You okay?” Cora asked, slipping her hand into the bend of his arm.

“Yeah,” Jack sighed. “Sorry. I’m just still thinkin’ about yesterday.”

“Old man Pulitzer?” Race scoffed. “You really think he’ll do what he said?”

Jack shrugged. “He doesn’t exactly have much of a reputation for  _ not _ following through on stuff.”

Race shrugged and kicked a pebble forward. It skipped over the concrete to hit Albert in the back of the leg. The redhead turned around and glared at them for a moment before facing forward again. “Look, I may not know much about  _ followin’  _ rules, but it really doesn’t seem to me that Pulitzer can do all that stuff he was talkin’ about. Like, suspendin’ us just for being in groups larger than three? That sounds like a bluff to me.”

Jack sighed again. “I guess we’ll find out.”

As the school building became visible in the distance, they all tensed up. Even Elaine and Albert’s conversation died off. About a block from the school, they heard a  _ beep _ , and Spot Conlon’s car swerved across the street to park—facing the wrong way on the street—along the sidewalk next to them.

“JoJo?” Jack asked, leaning down to peer into the car. “Spot?”

“What’s going on?” Albert asked.

“Yeah, why ain’t you guys at school?” Race asked.

“We’re suspended,” JoJo spat.

Spot sighed. “We walked in from the parking lot with Finch and Tommy Boy this morning. Pulitzer was standing outside and saw us. He suspended all four of us on the spot. Crutchie got lucky; he stopped to tie his shoe, otherwise he would’ve been in the same boat as us. We wanted to give youse a heads up since we saw you walkin’ together. Might wanna split up.”

With a wave, Spot pulled back out—directly into traffic, which earned him the squealing brakes and honking horns of the cars that had to slam on their brakes to keep from hitting him—and screeched back into his own lane, peeling off down the street.

“Remind me never to get in a car with him,” Elaine murmured to Albert.

“Yeah…” Albert said.

“Guess we oughta split up, then,” Race sighed.

.*.*.*.*.*.

Davey Jacobs pushed his way through the packed hallways, looking for any familiar faces from the weekend audition. Finally, he spotted a pair through a gap in the crowd and shoved his way towards them. “Hey! You two! Girls!”

Elaine whipped around, her long ponytail slapping her in the face. Cora grabbed her arm, nails digging into Elaine’s skin, as they watched Davey approach them.

“Girls? Really?” Elaine crossed her arms and glared up at the tall boy. “You couldn’t think of something  _ less  _ original?”

“Look, I didn’t catch your names on Sunday,” Davey sighed.

“Well, now’s as good a time as ever,” Elaine stuck out her hand. “Elaine O’Dell. That’s Cora Higgins.”

“Nice to meet you,” Davey smiled briefly, shaking first Elaine’s, then Cora’s hand.

“Likewise,” Elaine said.

“Yup,” Cora nodded furiously.

“Hey, you two are friends with Katherine, right?” Davey asked, ducking a stray elbow in the throng of students.

“Yeah, why?” Elaine asked.

“I just haven’t seen her around the past few days,” Davey said. “The last time I saw her was on Sunday, at the club. Monday and Tuesday I just thought I missed her or that she was sick, but then she was out today too, and I started to get a little worried.”

“Yeah, we haven’t seen her either,” Elaine sighed. “We tried calling her last night, but they wouldn’t let us talk to her.”

“Her dad must be keepin’ her home so she can’t talk to any of us,” Cora scowled.

“He must be serious if he’s keeping her out of school,” Davey said.

“Whatever,” Elaine sniffed. “We won’t let it scare us.”

“I heard some of the guys got suspended on Monday,” Davey said.

“Yeah, Spot, Finch, Tommy, and JoJo walked up together and Pulitzer gave them three days’ suspension,” Elaine said. “They’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Will we start rehearsing once they’re back?” Davey asked. “I haven’t heard anything about rehearsals all week, even though Mush said he’d let me know on Monday.”

Elaine frowned. “Normally they have rehearsals on, what, Sundays and Wednesdays, and any other day they can, right Cor?”

Cora nodded. “Race said they haven’t even talked about it since Sunday, though. Jack won’t give anyone any answers.”

Elaine’s frown deepened. “Seriously?”

“We can’t let Pulitzer win that easily!” Davey said. When the exclamation turned heads, he lowered his voice and leaned down towards the girls. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m not going to just… roll over and let him tell us how to live our lives, at least not outside of these four walls. You two help me spread the word: rehearsal, tomorrow night, after school, at the club.”

The girls exchanged glances and grinned, then nodded up at Davey and hurried off down the emptying hallway. Davey grinned to himself and headed towards his next class.  _ Cora. Her name’s Cora. _

A crashing sound—suspiciously similar to the noise that would come of someone being shoved into a locker—from down a side hall drew Davey’s attention. He took a few steps back and peered down the hall. There were only three figures left; as the bell rang out overhead, anyone else in the hall disappeared into classrooms. Davey was tempted to do so himself, but something drew him towards the conflict.

“H-hey!” he shouted, his voice cracking. He stepped into the side hall. “Hey! Stop that!”

Two of the three faces that turned towards him were identical, and Davey recognized them immediately, and regretted his decision to intervene just as quickly.  _ The Delancey Twins _ he gulped, taking an involuntary step back.

“L-l-leave him alone,” he stammered. The third face took him a moment longer to place, but something about the blond hair falling in the round, freckled face took him back to…  _ auditions? _

“What, you want some of this too?” one of the Delanceys sneered at him, pushing his sleeve up and brandishing a fist as he took a step closer to Davey.

Davey gulped. He drew himself up to his full height—easily two or three inches over the twins—and scowled down at the boy. “You want some of this?” he growled back, balling up his own hand into a fist, and drawing it back like he was going to take a swing at the other boy.

Unaccustomed to being challenged, the twin stopped short. He glanced uncertainly over his shoulder at his brother, who shrugged. The twin in front of Davey turned back towards him, cracked his neck, and took another step forward. “I ain’t afraid of you.”

“Yeah, well… maybe you should be.” Davey was fully aware that the threat sounded nowhere near as convincing as he had hoped it would.

A sudden loud smack—the sound of something hard and vaguely cylindrical slamming into flesh—came from behind them. Davey and the twin looked back to see the other Delancey, hopping on one leg and clutching the other, howling in pain. The boy on the floor was glaring up at him, crutch clutched with both hands in a white-knuckle grip.

While the twin in front of him wasn’t paying attention, Davey took a big step closer, so that when he turned back around Davey was right up in his face. “I think it’s time for you to leave,” he growled, making his voice as menacing as possible.

Without another word, both twins slipped past Davey and vanished into the main hall. Davey glanced over his shoulder to make sure they were really gone, then let all of the breath he’d subconsciously held out in a big sigh. He walked over to the boy on the floor and offered him his hand. “You okay?”

Crutchie looked up at him and smiled shakily. He took Davey’s hand and let the taller boy pull him to his feet. “Thanks. I’m fine.”

Davey lifted his chin up into the light for a better look. “You don’t look fine. Come on; we’ll get you cleaned up.”

“Don’t you have class?” Crutchie asked as Davey bent down to pick up his scattered books.

“Words cannot describe how much I  _ hate _ being late to class. I can’t stand walking in like that. I’d rather miss and come up with an excuse later.”

Crutchie laughed. “Fair enough.”

“Come on, we can go to the bathroom down the hall. Your lip is bleeding pretty bad.”

Crutchie nodded and followed behind Davey.

“Hey, what’s your name, by the way?” Davey asked over his shoulder. “I know you’re part of the band. Sax, right? I just can’t remember your name.”

“Crutchie Morris. And yeah, I play sax. You did a pretty great job on Sunday.”

“Thanks,” said Davey. He held the door to the bathroom open so Crutchie could enter, followed him in, and set their books on the radiator. Crutchie scowled at his reflection in the mirror; his lower lip was split, and a bruise was spreading over his right cheekbone, with a small cut just under his eye. “Here,” Davey wet a wad of paper towels under the cold water and offered it to Crutchie, who held it under his eye.

“Thanks. And thanks for standing up to the Delancey brothers for me.”

“Well, I’m sure you could’ve handled them just fine on your own,” Davey grinned. “I just don’t like to see people in situations like that. You know, outnumbered. Doesn’t seem fair.” As he spoke, he wet another paper towel in the cold water. “May I?” he asked. When Crutchie nodded, Davey gently turned the other boy’s head and dabbed at the drying blood on his lip and chin. “Let me know if that hurts.”

“It’s fine,” Crutchie laughed bitterly. “I’ve had worse.”

“Hey, Crutchie, do you mind if I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“About Sunday… how do  _ you  _ feel about everything that happened with Pulitzer?”

“I mean… not great,” Crutchie shrugged. “But I don’t think we need to be so scared of him. He can’t do anything to us outside of this place. We just have to be careful while we’re here.” He sighed. “I just hope the others can see that.”

“We’ll show them,” Davey said firmly, tossing the wet paper towel into the trash. “Tomorrow. After school, at the club. We can convince everyone else not to be afraid of Pulitzer. It really seems like you guys had a great thing going, and I was  _ really _ excited to be a part of that. I’m not going to give it up over a guy like Pulitzer with a stick up his”—

The bell for the next class cut Davey off, but Crutchie smiled.

“Tomorrow, then.”

“See you there.”

.*.*.*.*.*.

The next day found Spot, Finch, JoJo, and Tommy back at school. Davey, Elaine, Cora, and Crutchie flitted between the small knots of their friends, passing notes and whispering in ears until everyone had been informed of the rehearsal that afternoon. Jack was the most reluctant to commit to the rehearsal, but Race and Albert promised to drag him there kicking and screaming if they had to.

“We don’t have any of our instruments,” Mush protested when Elaine and Crutchie cornered him in a stairwell. “We weren’t planning on rehearsing today.”

“And whose fault is that?” Elaine asked, poking him in the arm. “Youse should’ve sorted out the next rehearsal on Sunday, like you usually do.”

“Well, we were a little distracted,” Mush hissed. He caught sight of the Delancey twins leering at them from the bottom of the stairs, so he hooked an arm through Elaine’s and half-dragged her up to the next floor, Crutchie trailing along behind them. “Will anyone else even come?”

“Yeah,” said Crutchie. “We’ve talked to almost everyone already—well, us and Cora and Davey—and almost everyone is up for it. You and Jack are the last holdouts.”

Mush rolled his eyes. He glanced over his shoulder to see Oscar and Morris, now closer behind them and grinning wickedly. “Davey? You mean the kid from Sunday?”

“Yeah, Davey Jacobs. Jack officially invited him to join the band, and he said yes, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember,” Mush mumbled. “What does he care about all this?”

“He said that it seemed like we all had a good thing going, and it would be a shame to let that go to waste,” Crutchie said.

“He told me and Cora that he wasn’t ready to just roll over and let Pulitzer win so easily,” Elaine added. “The principal can’t control what we do outside of the school. We can’t let him tell us how to live our lives like that.”

Mush sighed. Finding a break in the crowd, he tugged Elaine and Crutchie up against the worn blue lockers. “Fine. After school, at Medda’s. I’ll be there.”

“Good,” Elaine beamed up at him. “That’s all we wanted to hear.”

Before anyone could say anything else, Crutchie stumbled to the side and fell to the floor as his crutch slipped and his leg buckled under him. Mush whirled around and came face-to-face with Morris Delancey, foot still outstretched, and Oscar looming just behind him with a smirk plastered across his face.

“Why am I not surprised?” Mush grumbled. Without turning his back on the twins, he bent down and offered Crutchie a hand up, which the blond accepted. “If you two don’t mind, we’d like to be gettin’ to class now.”

Oscar stepped out from behind his brother to further box the three of them in. The hallway was beginning to empty at this point, as the next period drew closer, and the last few students around them seemed to be pointedly ignoring the confrontation. Not that they could really be blamed for that—few people were willing to face the Delancey brothers in a fight, fair or otherwise.

Mush pushed Crutchie behind him, with Elaine, and squared up against the twins. Except, Elaine wasn’t behind him anymore. She was beside him, and she reached out with both hands, planted them against Morris’s chest, and shoved as hard as she could. Morris took a half step back, laughed, grabbed her by the shoulders, and sent her flying down the hall. She landed on her hip and slid across the laminate flooring; they heard a ripping sound as her skirt snagged on something and tore before she managed to stop herself.

“Who’s next?” Oscar leered down at Mush and Crutchie.

Without a word, Mush balled his right hand up into a fist, drew back his arm, and punched Morris Delancey in the face. Or, rather, he tried to—Morris dodged the blow and caught Mush’s arm as he tried to pull it back. Before Mush could react, Oscar’s fist came flying out of nowhere and slammed into his stomach. He lost his balance from the force of the impact and went down on one knee, gagging from the blow.

When Mush went down, Crutchie took the opportunity to adjust his grip on his crutch, raise it, and swing it like a baseball bat into Oscar Delancey’s shoulder. The bigger boy fell back, shouting and clutching his shoulder.

“You damn crip!” Morris snarled, reaching out for Crutchie. Before he could make contact, Elaine was there, slamming her whole body into Morris hard enough to send him stumbling into Oscar, knocking both boys to the floor in a tangle of limbs and curses.

“Let’s go!” Elaine gasped, winded from Morris’s elbow hitting her in the sternum as she crashed into him. Crutchie got his crutch situated under his arm and took off down the hall, while Elaine grabbed Mush by the arm, hauled him to his feet, and dragged him bodily down the hallway. They clattered down the stairwell and into the first-floor hallway. Crutchie beckoned the other two to follow him and ducked into a small closet under the stairs. Mush pushed the other two in as he heard Morris and Oscar’s feet on the stairs above them, then followed them, closing the door behind them. He set his back against it and sank down onto the floor as the Delanceys’ footsteps faded into the distance, still trying to catch his breath. Elaine sank down onto the floor beside him, resting her head back against the wall, and Crutchie settled down on an overturned bucket.

“Well…” Mush sighed, once he’d gotten his breath back.

“Oscar is  _ not _ going to be happy with you for hitting him with your crutch like that,” Elaine giggled.

“Well, now he knows how it feels, maybe he’ll think twice about hitting  _ me _ with it,” Crutchie grumbled.

They laughed, falling silent as they heard footsteps coming towards the closet.

“Is it them?” Elaine whispered.

Mush stood up and cracked the door open, peering out. “It’s just Seitz,” he whispered, shutting the door again.

“Guess avoiding the Delanceys goes on my list of things to do today,” Elaine grumbled. She drew her knees up to her chest and picked at the giant tear in her skirt.

“Let’s just skip,” Mush said.

“Skip?” Elaine gasped. “The whole rest of the day?”

“Why not?” Mush shrugged. “After all, the Delanceys can’t find us if we’re not here.”

.*.*.*.*.*.

It took some doing, but the trio finally managed to slip out of the school in the bustle of the next break between periods. While Seitz was distracted breaking up a scuffle between two boys in black leather jackets, Mush, Elaine, and Crutchie slipped out the side door of the school and crept around to the sports fields. Under the bleachers, they found several of their friends in a cloud of cigarette smoke.

“Blink, if you keep cutting class, you’re going to get held back another year,” Mush said from directly behind the older boy’s shoulder, making him jump and drop his cigarette in the dirt.

“Mush! Where’d you come from?” Blink slung an arm over Mush’s shoulders and pulled him forward.

Spot leaned around Blink and caught sight of Elaine and Crutchie hanging back behind Mush. “What’re you two doing here?”

“You’d better get under here if you don’t wanna get caught,” Race piped up. “Pulitzer has Snyder do truancy patrols between periods to catch anyone trying to cut class.”

Elaine and Crutchie traded a glance, then climbed under the bleachers with the other boys. “How do the bulls not see youse under here?” Crutchie asked.

“Eh, they can barely see their noses in front of their faces,” Spot waved a hand nonchalantly.

Elaine copied the motion, trying to wave away some of the cigarette smoke in front of her face. She stifled a cough. “Racetrack Higgins, what would your mother say if she saw you out here?”

Race shrugged. “I can’t help it history is so boring.”

Elaine rolled her eyes and sighed. Albert laughed and stepped forward; he picked her up and set her on a horizontal support bar for the bleachers. “What happened there?” he asked, pointing to the gash in her skirt.

“The Delancey brothers, who else?” Crutchie grumbled.

Elaine picked at the loose threads around the rip. “I liked this skirt, too.” She teetered slightly on the support beam and wrapped an arm around the vertical one next to her to steady herself, then hooked her leg around it for good measure.

“What happened?” Blink asked, a scowl darkening his features.

“Don’t worry about it,” Mush said.

“There’s no sense gettin’ involved,” Crutchie added. “It’s just the Delanceys being the Delanceys.”

“So you’re skipping to avoid them the rest of the day?” Race asked.

“Yeah, tell everyone we’ll see them at the club,” Mush said.

Spot peered out. “The bulls are gone. You can make your escape if you want, but be quick about it.”

Mush helped Elaine down from the support beam, wincing as her torn skirt snagged and ripped further. “Sorry,” he said.

“It’s fine,” she sighed.

Race and Spot acted as lookouts, giving the others all clear to scatter, Blink and Albert running back to the school with them while Mush, Elaine, and Crutchie headed for the parking lot. They darted between cars, keeping an eye out for any lingering cops, before slipping out of the parking lot and into the street. Then, they merged into the foot traffic on the sidewalk, heading away from the school, still watching out for police as they went.

“Where are we goin’?” Crutchie called out to Mush, who was a few steps in front of the others, hands in his pockets.

Mush paused and shrugged. “I didn’t think that far ahead.”

“We could go to the club,” Crutchie suggested. “Medda’d let us stay there.”

“She’d probably scold us for skipping too though,” Elaine said.

“It’s better than bein’ picked up as truants by the bulls, though,” Crutchie said.

Mush shrugged again. Elaine rolled her eyes at Crutchie and skipped the two steps ahead to Mush to slip an arm through his. “Are you really going to let them win that easily?”

“Who, the Delancey brothers?” Mush retorted. “What do you want me to do, fight them both myself?”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Elaine said. “You don’t have to lose to the Delancey twins in a fight to let them win. Just like you don’t have to let Pulitzer and Snyder win by letting them control your life outside of school. It’s a choice. You can  _ choose _ to be afraid of them, and let that dictate your actions, or you can  _ choose _ to keep doing what you want, no matter what they say or do.”

Mush scoffed and stuffed his hands further into his pockets. Elaine let her hand fall away and glanced behind at Crutchie. “Come on. My house isn’t too far; we should be able to hole up there for a little while at least. Plus, I want to get out of this skirt before I rip it any more. And, Mush, you should wash your face.”

Mush reached up and brushed his hand over a spot on his cheekbone that had begun to throb. “Ow.” His fingers came away with a smear of blood.

“When did they even get you in the face?” Crutchie asked, popping up on Mush’s other side.

“I think Morris caught me with his shoe when he went down,” Mush sighed.

“Well, hey! Now we match!” Crutchie grinned, pointing to the swollen green and purple bruise under his right eye.

Mush laughed. “Yeah. We sure are a pair.”

.*.*.*.*.*.

Elaine’s home was situated on a quiet street full of nice-looking, matching townhouses. She led them to an alley running behind some of the houses, then into a small backyard that was more dirt than anything else. The yard’s winning feature, however, was a big maple tree, stretching even higher than the three-story townhouse, with a small treehouse in its lowest branches.

“My stepmother should be gone for another hour or two,” Elaine whispered, creeping up to the back door of the house, “but let me go in first and check.”

The boys nodded and settled down on the stoop to wait. A few minutes later, Elaine’s head popped out of a window directly above them. “Okay, come on in! Just don’t make too much noise!”

Crutchie opened the door and crept in, followed by Mush. The kitchen was clean and tidy, all matchy-matchy in mint green and soft orange. They slipped into a hallway with a stairwell leading up and climbed the stairs, at the top of which Elaine met them. “Crutchie, you can go in my room,” she pointed down the hall to an open door. “Mush, the bathroom is that one”—she pointed to a door at the other end of the hall—“there should be bandaids and first aid stuff in the medicine cabinet for your eye. I’m going to change real quick.”

Mush washed the dried blood off of his face and taped up the small cut, but there was nothing to be done for the blue bruise already spreading across his cheek. It really was in almost the same place as Crutchie’s mark from the day before, he noted with a wry smile as he stared into the mirror over the sink. He sighed, shut off the water, and closed the cabinet door, then headed back to Elaine’s room. Walking into the room was akin to walking into Candy Land: everything was pink, fluffy, and lacy. Elaine was settled back into puffy pink pillows, trimmed with lace, her boots making dents in a matching pink bedspread. She had changed her ripped skirt for a pair of denim overalls, with pink and white roses embroidered on the bib and around the rolled-up cuffs, over the same puffy-sleeved white blouse she had been wearing, and with a pair of worn black boots instead of the loafers she’d worn to school. Crutchie sat at the end of the bed, leaning against the whitewashed wooden footboard. Mush looked around, mouth slightly agape, taking it all in. He didn’t miss the violin case propped against the wall next to the white dresser, but also decided not to mention it. He sat down on a white wooden chair with a fluffy pink cushion, next to a matching white desk, and let his gaze land on Elaine.

“Wow,” was all he said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Elaine rolled her eyes. “My stepmom would like me to be a good little girl and keep quiet and do as I’m told. One of the first things she did when she moved in was redecorate my room like  _ this. _ It’s not so bad; pink’s my favorite color, not that I’ll ever admit that to her.”

Mush snorted a laugh.

“If that’s what your stepmom thinks, what about your real mom?” Crutchie asked.

Elaine smiled sadly, picking at a worn spot on the knee of her overalls. “She died. When I was… seven-ish? I don’t remember her much any more.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Elaine shrugged. “I don’t really talk about her much. Our dad doesn’t like it when we bring her up. Most of what I remember is her teaching me how to knit, and how to sing.”

“At least you have that,” Mush said.

Elaine nodded vigorously. “I know. I’m really glad. I can still feel close to her when I knit, or when I sing. And that makes me happy.”

Mush offered her a similar small smile. “My mom died when I was three. I don’t remember her at all, and my dad don’t like to talk about her.”

Crutchie, caught in the middle of the suddenly awkward moment, squirmed slightly. “I’m not sharing next. Pretty sure you both know where I come from anyways.”

Mush and Elaine both laughed.

“Hey, Elaine, how long can we stay here?” Mush asked.

“Cruella usually takes the babies for a play date so she can get day-drunk with her snobby rich friends on Thursdays until about one? So we should have another half hour or so.”

“‘Babies’? How many siblings do you have?”

“Four,” Elaine said. “Well, Alan and Alden are my brothers, and the babies are only our half-brothers. Alan and I are twins, Alden is ten, and the babies are… three years and seven months, or something like that. On the bright side, I’m the only girl, so I get my own room! Alan and Alden have to share.”

They boys laughed, but froze as they heard a door open and close downstairs, accompanied by the cacophony of a wailing baby, screeching toddler, and frustrated woman. “Shit!” Elaine hissed, flying off the bed to land gracefully on the pink carpet. She crept across the floor and eased the door shut. “They’re home early.” She hurried back over to the window, opened it, and leaned out. “Crutchie, can you climb down the tree?”

Crutchie hobbled over to peer down. “I think I’ll be okay, but can someone take my crutch?”

“I’ll go first,” Mush squeezed between them and was over the sill and in the tree before either of the others could protest. “Crutchie, give me your crutch.”

Crutchie passed the crutch down to Mush, then climbed over the windowsill, lifting his bad leg up and over it, then eased himself out and into the tree.

“Careful,” Elaine hissed, glancing over her shoulder as the sound of crying children got louder. She waited for Crutchie to get a few branches down, then slipped out the window after the boys, carefully sliding it most of the way shut behind her.

Down at the base of the tree, Mush caught Crutchie as he dropped from the lowest branch—only about seven feet up, but far enough to be a difficult landing on one leg. Once Crutchie was on the ground and heading for the alley, Elaine dropped into Mush’s arms as well; he set her on the ground, and they took off after Crutchie.

“Well… Guess we might as well head for the club.”

.*.*.*.*.*.

When they reached the club, they snuck around to the back alley and cracked open the back door, making sure the coast was clear before going in. There was a handful of people on the stage, setting up and tuning instruments, but they weren’t paying attention to the door, so the kids slipped in and made for Medda’s office, Mush ushering the other two in front of him. Crutchie opened the door to Medda’s office and stuck his head in. “Miss Medda?” he said softly.

Medda glanced up and did a double take when she saw the face peeping around her door. “Crutchie Morris, what are you doin’ here at this time on a school day?” her eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me you got suspended like the boys earlier this week.”

“No, ma’am,” Crutchie said quickly. He opened the door the rest of the way to reveal the sheepish Elaine and Mush behind him. “We’s just had a… rough day.”

“Well, come on in,” Medda sighed, setting her pen down. She gestured to the two chairs in front of the desk; Crutchie took one, Elaine took the other, and Mush perched on the arm of Crutchie’s chair. “Now, boys, what happened to those pretty faces of yours?”

Mush reached up to touch his cheek again and winced. “Oscar and Morris Delancey.”

“Two different times, though,” Crutchie said. “They got my face yesterday. Today they just knocked me over, thanks to Mush and Laine.”

“Did they hit you, too?” Medda’s face had fallen into a frown while the boys spoke, and she turned now to Elaine.

“No, they just pushed me,” Elaine smiled. She pulled her knees up to her chest and continued picking at the worn spot on the leg of her overalls.

“ _ Threw _ ya is more like,” Mush grumbled.

Medda shook her head. “Those boys are a menace,” she snapped. “I’ve half a mind to go to the police about them.”

“No!” all three teenagers yelled and lunged forward as Medda’s hand drifted towards the telephone receiver on her desk.

The woman arched an eyebrow and leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “And why shouldn’t I?”

The teens traded glances. “Well, for one thing, it wouldn’t do any good,” said Crutchie.

“Pulitzer has Captain Snyder in his pocket—if he didn’t make anything else clear on Sunday, he made that clear,” said Mush. “And the Delancey brothers operate with implicit permission of Pulitzer. Otherwise, they’d’ve been expelled already.”

“They almost never go to class, they beat people up constantly, and in front of people, but everyone—including the teachers—is too scared to do anything about it!” Elaine grumbled.

Medda shook her head. “That’s a shame.”

“The best thing to do is just avoid them,” said Elaine.

“But even that doesn’t always work,” Mush sighed. “They  _ hate _ Jack for some reason, and they’ve been fightin’ with Spot and Blink and Albert and them for years, so they take any excuse to pick on all of us.”

“And if they see you as weak, they’re even more likely to come after you,” Crutchie mumbled bitterly.

“Well, I doubt after you hit ‘em with your crutch like you did today they’ll see you as weak any more,” Mush teased, elbowing Crutchie’s shoulder.

“I mean… I hit one of ‘em yesterday with it too, and they still came back today,” Crutchie sighed, sinking back into his seat.

Mush sighed and leaned back against the edge of the back of the seat, careful not to rest too much weight on it and tip the chair over, staring up at the ceiling. Elaine continued worrying the denim over her knee, pulling out a loose thread until the fabric ripped. Medda looked them over and sighed.

“You three certainly are a sorry bunch,” she chuckled. They glanced up, just as a knock sounded at the door. “Come in!” Medda called.

“Miss Medda, we’re ready, if you’d like to hear what we have for tonight?” a man stuck his head in the door.

“Actually, Victor, how about I come sing one with you—to sound check,” Medda stood up and walked around the desk. “Also, I’d like to introduce you to my friends here. Victor, this is Crutchie, Mush, and Elaine. I used to teach them music in middle school, and now they have a band of their own, with a bunch of their other friends. They’re actually pretty good, too.”

“Well, nice to meet ya, kids!” Victor beamed at them. He shook Crutchie and Mush’s hands firmly, and kissed Elaine lightly on the knuckles, earning a bright giggle from her. “How’d you like to hear us play?”

“Sure,” Mush laughed. The three of them followed Medda and Victor back into the club and took seats on the barstools. Victor picked up a guitar from a stand at the front of the stage, but offered the microphone there to Medda.

“Hey, boys! Medda’s goin’ to sing one with us!” he called to the rest of the band. “Plus, we’ve got some music critic friends of hers in the audience today, so give it all you got!”

The teens laughed as the rest of the band turned to them and offered doffed hats and exaggerated bows, then Victor and the other guitarist began to play. They started off strumming, then Victor split into a string of twangy, slightly off-sounding notes, before the other musicians joined in—and then Medda started singing:

**“You keep saying you got something for me**

**Something you call love but confess**

**You’ve been a-messin’ where you shouldn’t’ve been a-messin’**

**And now someone else is getting all your best**

**Well, these boots are made for walkin’,**

**And that’s just what they’ll do!**

**One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you!”**

Medda’s voice was rich and full, filling the club with a warmth none of its occupants had realized it lacked. Elaine was soon bouncing along, swiveling in her seat and bopping her head from side to side, hands planted on the seat between her knees as she used the force from her shoulders to twist the top of the stool. Crutchie nodded and bounced his foot in time with the music, and even Mush found himself tapping out the percussion on the bar top.

**“You keep lyin’ when you oughta be truthin’**

**You keep losing when you oughta not bet**

**You keep samin’ when you oughta be a-changin’**

**What’s right is right but you ain’t been right yet!**

**These boots are made for walkin’, and that’s just what they’ll do!**

**One of these days, these boots are gonna walk all over you!”**

Between verses, Victor split off again into the same twangy cascade of notes, before the rest of the instruments came back in for the final verse:

**“You keep playing where you shouldn’t be playing**

**And you keep thinking that you’ll never get burnt—ha!**

**Well, I’ve just found me a brand new box of matches, yeah!**

**And what he knows you ain’t have time to learn.**

**These boots are made for walking, and that’s just what they’ll do!**

**One of these days, these boots are gonna walk all over you!”**

This time, at the end of Victor’s little riff, Medda grinned into the mic and said,  **“Are you ready, boots? Start walkin’!”**

Immediately after she finished singing, the brass players on the other side of the stage burst out into a short feature, the other instruments dying out one by one, until the brass faded out and the club was left in silence.

In the sudden void of sound, Elaine burst out cheering, Crutchie and Mush not far after her. The band split into a cacophony of laughter, cheers, and compliments to one another and Medda. Medda accepted the compliments graciously before slipping away to join the teens at the bar.

“Miss Medda, you sounded amazing,” Elaine gushed. “I miss hearing you sing in class all the time.”

Medda smiled. “Thank you, dear. I miss having all of you in class. But I guess I got the long end of the stick, since I get to hear you all in my club, singing and livening up the place every Sunday. And I expect to  _ continue _ having you all in here on Sunday mornings, and any other time you need to rehearse?” She arched an eyebrow meaningfully and glanced between each of them in turn.

“That’s the goal, anyways,” Crutchie laughed.

“They’re supposed to be here after school today,” said Elaine.

“ _ Supposed _ to be,” Crutchie said. “I think most of ‘em will come. It’s Jack I’m worried about.”

“Jack’ll be here,” Mush sighed.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Mush smiled, glancing over to the stage, where Victor and his band had begun to play another song.

“How do you know?”

“Because Jack’s like me,” Mush said, eyes still focused on the musicians. “He loves the music.”

.*.*.*.*.*.

Around 2:30, the band finished their rehearsal and came over to the bar for glasses of water. Elaine helpfully hopped up when she saw them heading over and filled several glasses, passing them out to the musicians.

“Whaddaya think, kid?” Victor asked, turning to Mush. “Somethin’ tells me you’ve got an ear for music.”

Mush laughed and shook his head. “I don’t know about that”—

“He’s being modest,” Crutchie leaned between them. “He writes all our arrangements and everything.  _ And _ he can sing, and play the guitar.”

Mush shot him a dirty look.

“Well, in that case, let’s hear something!” Victor said, clapping Mush on the shoulder.

“No, that’s okay,” Mush chuckled awkwardly, rolling his shoulders. “I don’t really perform. I’m more of a… behind-the-scenes kind of guy.”

“Look, kid,” Victor leaned in a little closer. “I can see you’re dealin’ with something in that head of yours. You know what the best thing to help you get through it is?”

Mush arched an eyebrow. “What?”

“Music!” Victor threw out his arms, splashing the last of the water in his glass over the people next to him. “Why do you think people listen to music? Why do you think they play it, and write it? To work through problems. That’s what most of art is, honestly. People trying to work through sh—uh, stuff. Stuff. People trying to work through stuff.”

“Come on, Mush,” Crutchie nudged him with his foot. “We’ll come up with you.”

“Maybe it’ll help,” Elaine said.

“You think singin’ a song is gonna help me be less worried about Pulitzer and the Delancey brothers?” Mush grumbled.

“Who knows,” Elaine teased, leaning over the bar to poke him in the shoulder. “If nothing else, maybe it’ll cheer you up and help you feel better.”

Mush rolled his eyes, but stood up, to the encouraging cheers of Victor and his band. “Use my guitar if you want, kid,” Victor said.

Elaine and Crutchie followed Mush over to the stage, where he picked up Victor’s guitar—although he didn’t stay on the stage. He went to his usual table in the audience and stepped up on a chair to sit down on the tabletop, one foot on the chair for the guitar to balance on. Elaine sat on the table next to him, and Crutchie took a seat on a nearby chair as Mush took a deep breath, clipped the capo most of the way down the neck of the guitar, and began to pick out a simple, slow tune.

**“Wouldn’t it be nice if we were older, then we wouldn’t have to wait so long?”** he sang softly, falling into a simple strumming pattern.  **“And wouldn’t it be nice to live together, in the kind of world where we belong?”**

Elaine joined in, harmonizing easily and singing in a higher register than she usually did with Cora and Katherine:  **“You know it’s gonna make that much better, when we can say goodnight and stay together.”**

Crutchie sang the next verse: 

**“Wouldn’t it be nice if we could wake up,**

**In the morning when the day is new?**

**And after having spent the day together,**

**Hold each other close the whole night through?”**

They all chimed in for the next chorus:  **“Happy times together we’ve been spending, I wish that everything was never ending… Oh wouldn’t it be nice?”**

**“Maybe if we think and wish and hope and pray, it might come true,”** sang Elaine, while the boys echoed:  **“Run, run, ooh.”**

**“Baby, then there wouldn’t be a single thing we couldn’t do,”** she sang.

**“We could be married,”** Crutchie sang.

**“We could be married,”** Elaine echoed with a laugh.

**“And then we’d be happy,”** sang Mush.

**“And then we’d be happy,”** the other two echoed.

**“Oh wouldn’t it be nice?”** They all sang together.

**“You know, it seems the more we talk about it, it only makes it worse to live without it,”** sang Mush.

**“But let’s talk about it,”** Crutchie and Elaine added.

**“Oh, wouldn’t it be nice?”** Mush sang. He played a few more notes, then added:

**“Good night, oh baby,**

**Sleep tight, oh baby,**

**Good night, oh baby,**

**Sleep tight, oh baby.”**

As his voice trailed off, he continued playing, picking out a recognizable riff from a different song, playing the notes slower and slower until he plucked the last few, lifted his fingers from the strings. He took a deep breath and finally looked up from the fretboard. His eyes immediately went to the door to Medda’s office, where Medda herself was standing, beaming proudly. As Victor and his band—and Elaine and Crutchie—cheered and applauded, Medda nodded once, clapped three times slowly, and slipped back into the office, shutting the door behind her.

Once Mush had handed the guitar back to Victor, he returned to the bar, where Elaine was perched on the bar top and Crutchie had reclaimed his stool. He sat down next to Elaine and sighed, jumping slightly when she gave him a gentle swat on the arm.

“Hey! I didn’t know you could sing!”

Mush stared at her. “I sang with you on Sunday.”

“Well, yeah, but I didn’t know you could sing like  _ that _ !”

“Elaine, we were in Medda’s choir together for  _ two years _ in middle school.”

Elaine stared down at him, until recognition slowly dawned on her. “Wait! You’re  _ Nick _ Meyers? Oh my gosh!”

Mush rolled his eyes and laughed.

“Did you seriously not know that?” Crutchie laughed.

“Okay, look,” Elaine said, “I’m not great with faces. And that was like… three and a half years ago. You grew up! I can’t help that.”

“I mean, to be fair, I hardly recognized you when you came to rehearsal with Cora this summer,” Mush said. “Although I can’t really say that you  _ grew _ at all, just changed…”

Elaine swatted him again on the arm, a little harder this time. “I’ll have you know that in eighth grade, I was only four foot eleven. Now I’m five feet and half an inch!”

“Oh, right,” Mush nodded.

“So, what’s the verdict?” Crutchie said, leaning towards Mush. “You gonna help us convince Jack and everyone else to keep doing this whole band thing?”

Mush gave an exaggerated sigh in response and rolled his eyes. “Well… I guess I might as well. It’s not like I’d have anything better to do with my time anyways.”

Elaine and Crutchie grinned and high-fived each other. “Great!” Elaine squealed.

“Now to see who else comes back,” Crutchie glanced at the clock. “Guess we‘ll know in an hour or so…”


	2. Chapter 2

Jack stared longingly up at the elaborate metal sign of Medda’s club. Normally, the club’s facade was so welcoming—the one place in the city he had never  _ not _ wanted to be—but today it felt… looming and ominous. Beside him, Cora tugged on his sleeve.

“Come on, Kelly. We’ll be the last ones in.”

Jack nodded and followed her in. Sure enough, most of their other friends were already inside, clustered around the bar and stools. “Jack! Come over here! We figured out where Crutchie went!” called Finch.

Jack went over to the clump of teenagers, trying to ignore the band of adults gathered on the stage. The men were clearly  _ trying _ to look busy with their instruments and equipment, but were failing miserably at the task, focused instead on the teens by the bar. Jack took in the fresh bruises on Mush’s face and Crutchie’s elbow in an instant, dimly noting the way Elaine sat on the bar to favor her hip as well.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice dark.

“I’ll give you three guesses,” Crutchie retorted.

“I only need two,” Jack said. “Oscar or Morris?”

“Who can tell them apart?” Mush shrugged.

“And it’s not like it matters much anyways,” Elaine added. “It’s done; let it go.”

“They’re goin’ after the smallest and weakest people we got, and you think it don’t matter?” Jack snapped.

“Weak?” Cora mumbled under her breath, one eyebrow shooting up. Jack shot her a glare.

“I also take offence to that,” Crutchie raised a finger, to which Jack responded with another glare.

“You know what I mean. Crutchie can’t run away like the rest of us, and you girls are so small that it makes you easy targets for the Delanceys—they’re not small. They could snap either of you in half with one hand if they wanted to.”

“Once it’s over, it doesn’t matter what they’ve done!” Elaine said, interrupting Cora before she could start to argue with Jack. “We’re fine. It’s not like the Delanceys’ll do anything worse than a few punches anyways. Even  _ they _ couldn’t get away with that at school.”

“I’m a little more worried about what they might do outside of school,” Jack mumbled. “Anyways, you don’t think it’s a coincidence that the Delancey twins start pickin’ on youse even more than normal the week after Pulitzer crashes our rehearsal and bans our music from school? Everyone knows they’re in his pocket. He’s gotta be usin’ ‘em to keep an eye on us.”

“And what if you’re right?” Davey said, stepping forward. “Are you really going to let them win so easily?”

“‘Easily’?” Jack repeated. He gestured vaguely at Mush, Crutchie, and Elaine. “You think this is easy? You think seein’ my  _ friends _ ,  _ hurt _ is easy?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Davey snapped. “But you let one guy interrupt your rehearsal and throw down a few arbitrary rules, and assume that the school bullies are under his control and acting on his orders, and you’re ready to give up your music? Something that you—and, please, correct me if I’m wrong here—something that you love? For just a few bad days, you’d give it up?”

“Jack, you’re the only one who wants to quit here,” Mush said softly. “The rest of us ain’t afraid. Not of Pulitzer, not of the Delancey brothers, and not even of Snyder.”

“We might be a  _ little _ scared of Snyder,” Boots muttered.

Jack hid a smile.

“Look, all we want to do is play music,” Mush sighed. “Literally. There’s nothing else that would’ve drawn us together besides music. Most of us met through it, in Medda’s classes. Do you really think we’d all be friends if it weren’t for that?”

Jack paused, then shook his head slowly.

“Are you really willing to give us up for Pulitzer?” Crutchie asked, poking Jack in the leg with his toe.

Jack shook his head, but turned away from the others, taking a few uncertain steps away from his friends.

“Jack?” Cora said softly, reaching for his arm.

Over by the bar, the others traded worried glances. It was Elaine who finally stood up—on the bar—and started singing to get Jack’s attention.  **“Breakin’ rocks in the hot sun! I fought the law and the law won, I fought the law and the law won.”**

**“I needed money ‘cause I had none! I fought the law and the law won, I fought the law and the law won.”** Davey picked up the verse, crossing the floor to where Jack stood, staring stiffly at the door.

Cora joined Elaine and Davey for the chorus:

**“I left my baby and it feels so bad—**

**Guess my race is run!**

**She’s the best girl that I ever had!**

**I fought the law and the law won,**

**I fought the law and the law won.”**

As the chorus finished, the band on the stage picked up the song and started playing. Davey gave Cora a gentle tug on the wrist and led her over to the bar, where he lifted her up to sit on the bar top, then Elaine helped her to her feet. Davey joined the band on stage at the piano, beginning to play as Elaine and Cora launched into the next verse:

**“Robbin’ people with a six-gun!**

**I fought the law and the law won,**

**I fought the law and the law won.**

**I lost my girl and I lost my fun!**

**I fought the law and the law won,**

**I fought the law and the law won.”**

Davey, Mush, and Crutchie all joined in for the chorus, several of the other boys chiming in as they sang.

**“I left my baby and it feels so bad—**

**Guess my race is run!**

**She’s the best girl that I ever had!**

**I fought the law and the law won,**

**I fought the law and the law won.”**

The rest of the boys circled Jack as they sang the chorus, in a tight circle that would definitely have been terrifying if they weren’t all such good friends. They practically chanted  **“I fought the law and the law won!”** over and over until Jack finally relented and joined in, laughing despite himself. On the bar, the girls cheered, grabbing each others’ arms and dancing a little until they nearly fell and thought better of it. Davey finished with a flourish on the piano and, beaming, joined the rest of the boys in the little clump around Jack.

“Come on, Jack, we can’t be done!” Mush said, grabbing Jack by the shoulders and giving him a little shake. “We just got started! I have so many ideas for us to do—and now we’ve got girls, too, and a piano player, which gives us  _ so _ many more options!”

“Hey, we never said we’d sing with you!” Elaine protested, trying to gracefully dismount from the bar. Cora was already on the floor, having hopped down while no-one was watching to warn her how dangerous it might be. Finch left the throng around Jack to give Elaine a hand down as Davey spoke up again.

“Look, I know I’m pretty new around here, but you guys are amazing, and it just seems like it would be a shame to let that go to waste. I really think you—we—could be a successful band, honestly. We’ve got a great sound that I think could be really popular with other kids our age.”

“Just think how  _ great _ it would be to prove Pulitzer wrong—show him that we’re  _ not _ just noise, but actually good, popular music!” Race said.

“Yeah, if nothin’ else, do it for the vengeance!” Albert agreed.

“Not to mention, we started playing music together because it was  _ fun _ ,” Crutchie added.

“It’s a good stress reliever,” Tommy piped up.

“We’ve been turnin’ to music instead of pickin’ fights with the Delanceys for years now,” Spot shrugged. “We might as well keep up with it.”

“And Mush isn’t the only one with ideas!” Specs said. “I’ve got lots too—places we could perform, marketing strategies”—

“Geez, how long have youse guys been thinkin’ about this?” Jack said.

“You’re tellin’ me you ain’t been?” Crutchie asked.

“You’re really going to tell us that you’ve never even  _ dreamed _ about turnin’ this little thing into a real, performin’ band?” Mush asked.

“I mean…” Jack said, fumbling for words. “Not as much as youse clearly have.”

A round of laughter went around the group.

“Okay, fine,” Jack said, waving his arms to shut the others up. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

“You’ll do it?” Crutchie lunged forward and grabbed Jack’s arm eagerly.

“I’ll do it!” Jack repeated, trying to escape the crowd that pressed in on him with renewed vigor.

“He’ll do it!” The cheer went up, the boys whooping wildly as they made an effort to pick Jack up and hoist him into the air—an effort he quelled immediately.

“Okay, okay, enough!” Jack yelled, finally fighting his way free of the others. “Geez. You tryin’ to kill me? Do that and you’ll have to rename the band.”

Cora laughed and ran forward to wrap Jack in a big hug. “I’m glad you’s stickin’ around, Kelly.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jack wriggled out of her grip.

“Boys!” Medda’s voice called out from her office. “And girls. It’s time for my people to start getting ready to open, and seeing as you’re not holding a rehearsal, I’ll have to ask you to leave. But, Jack, Mush, and Specs—why don’t you come in my office for a minute first? The rest of you can wait in the back alley.”

.*.*.*.*.*.

In the back alley, the gang was eerily quiet while they waited for Jack, Mush, and Specs to come out of the club. Even as a light misting rain began to fall, they waited silently, a few of them taking cover in Finch, Spot, and Tommy’s vehicles, but most of them staying in the open alley. When the others returned, Mush and Specs beaming while Jack kept a more reserved expression on his face, the rest of the gang pressed in around them. “What did Medda want?” one of the boys called out.

“She offered us a performance!” Mush replied, hardly able to contain himself. “Two weeks from Sunday. She said she’s been thinkin’ about doin’ a sixteen to twenty night for a while, since Sunday nights’re real slow around here. She said we could be the act for her first one!”

The others cheered at the news, but Jack settled them down with a few waves of his hands. “Two weeks don’t give us a lot of time to prepare,” he said cautiously. “We’ll have to work hard to get ready.

“I’ll have sheet music ready by this Sunday,” Mush said. “At least something rough. And I’ll be giving a few extra copies out—Elmer, you’re going to learn Spot’s stuff, Mike and Ike will cover Tommy Boy and Crutchie, and Finch will cover Jack and Albert.”

“Why do I have to learn both their parts?” Finch grumbled. “You could do one.”

“I don’t perform,” Mush retorted.

Elaine and Crutchie both rolled their eyes, earning them a warning glance from Mush.

“You’ll all have to practice as much as possible, even outside of rehearsals,” Mush continued. “We’ll have to be  _ good _ for the show if we want to ever play another one.”

“We won’t just be good,” Crutchie glanced around the group, beaming. “We’ll be great.”


	3. Chapter 3

Katherine Pulitzer sighed and stared longingly out her window. It had begun to rain after she got home from school—not a proper rain, though, just the fine, mist-like precipitation of autumn—and the weather seemed to match her mood. Today was her first day back at school. Her father had kept her home for the first few days of the week, angry at her participation in Sunday’s musical antics, but her mother had finally persuaded him to send Katherine back on Thursday. 

Unfortunately, school hadn’t been quite the escape Katherine had hoped for; the Delancey twins had spent most of the day tailing her, at least one of them appearing to escort her from class to class. No doubt this was her father’s strategy to keep her away from her new friends, and it was most likely having its desired effect, as Katherine felt stifled and trapped after only one day spent like this. The closest she had gotten to a normal class period was biology, right after lunch. The Delanceys had disappeared during lunch and not returned, although she heard whispers of them picking a fight with some other kids in the upstairs hallway later that day. Oscar, who was in her biology class, hadn’t shown up, either, but both twins had been waiting for her outside the door when the period ended.

The best part of biology, usually, was that Katherine shared it with Cora and Elaine. However, Oscar hadn’t been the only student missing from class today—Elaine had been as well. Katherine and Cora sat in the back, passing furious notes as they tried to catch up without the teacher noticing. Katherine had explained to Cora what had happened with her father on Sunday, and asked her to pass her apologies on to the rest of their friends. Cora had told her about Davey coming to speak to her and Elaine the day before, proposing an impromptu rehearsal to get everyone in the band back on the same page, and that she, Elaine, and Crutchie had been helping him spread the word among the others all morning. They also speculated on where Elaine and Oscar Delancey might be, but didn’t dip into their true fears on the subject.

Katherine’s last class of the day was English, and she left it with a sick feeling gnawing a hole in her stomach when both Elaine and Crutchie were absent. The rumors she’d been hearing about Morris and Oscar all afternoon all seemed to agree that they had faced down three other kids, including a boy with a crutch and a girl. When the final bell rang, Katherine gathered up her things as slowly as possible, hoping that the twins would move on without her, but had no such luck. They lingered by the door, leering as they waited for her, and falling in behind her as she stepped out of the classroom.

She did her best to ignore them, but Katherine was frustrated. When she spotted Race, Albert, and Jack across the crowded hall—or, rather, spotted Race’s blond curls and Albert’s shock of red hair with Jack’s dark locks poking up between them—she made a beeline for them. The throng of students was already starting to thin as the teenagers made their escape from the school building, but the boys seemed to have no such hurry as they leaned against the lockers, speaking softly. They all wore similar expressions of concern that made the pit in Katherine’s stomach grow larger.

A glance over her shoulder showed the Delancey brothers occupied with an underclassman, so Katherine took her chance. ”Jack!” she hissed, darting closer. “Race! Albert!”

“Well, if it ain’t little miss princess,” Jack sneered. “Whaddaya want?”

“Have you seen Elaine today?” Katherine whispered. “She’s missed two classes. Crutchie missed English, too.”

“They skipped, with Mush,” said Race. “We ran into ‘em.”

“Yeah, they got into it with the Delancey brothers and decided to get out before the twins could get back at ‘em,” Albert shrugged. “We don’t know much of what happened ‘sides the rumors goin’ around and what Mush told us, though.”

Katherine scowled. “That’s what I was afraid of. Are they okay.”

Albert shrugged. “Seemed fine to us.”

Race nodded in agreement.

Katherine glanced over her shoulder again. Morris and Oscar had the underclassman pinned against the lockers, the poor kid almost in tears. “I have to go. But… Jack, I just wanted to say”—

“Save it,” Jack snapped. He lurched away from the lockers and stuffed his hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched up. A little way down the hall, Cora fell in beside him, shooting a concerned glance back at Katherine and her brother before hurrying to keep up with Jack.

“I didn’t know he didn’t know,” Katherine murmured. “I didn’t mean to trick him or anything. I wasn’t  _ trying _ to hide who my father was.”

“He’ll get over it,” Race said. “Jack can be a little bit of a drama queen.”

“We’ll see if we can smooth it over with ‘im a little,” Albert added.

“I already asked Cora, but can you guys tell everyone that I’m  _ so _ sorry about what my father did on Sunday?” Katherine said hurriedly. From the sounds coming from behind her, she guessed that the Delancey brothers were almost done with their victim. “I had no idea he was going to be there, or I would’ve done something about it.”

“It ain’t your fault,” Race grumbled. “And it’s not like he can  _ really _ do anythin’ to us.”

“Yeah, none of us is gonna complain too much about gettin’ suspended,” Albert snorted. “But we’ll pass it on.”

“Thank you,” Katherine smiled at them.

Race nodded and turned to follow after Cora and Jack; Albert patted Katherine on the shoulder before heading off as well. 

Katherine was left standing alone in the now-empty school corridor. Oscar and Morris didn’t leave her enough time to be lonely, however, as they appeared on either side of her. “Come on,  _ Miss Pulitzer _ . Your daddy wants us to walk you home. Make sure you don’t get into any trouble or anythin’ like that.”

The fleeting thought that had crossed Katherine’s mind of running off to rehearsal vanished, and her heart fell into her shoes. She squared up her shoulders, lifted her head, and marched down the hallway, ignoring the two sets of footsteps shadowing her own.

True to their word, the Delancey brothers had walked her home, never more than a half-step behind her. Only once she had gotten inside and locked the door behind her did they leave—and did she relax.

Now, as she waited to be called for dinner, Katherine was ostensibly doing her homework, but instead found herself distracted by the autumn evening creeping over the city outside her window. She allowed herself a small smile, remembering the fun of the chaos of Sunday’s rehearsal: trading retorts with Jack, singing with Cora and Elaine, dancing with Jack… How she wished to be back in Medda’s club, singing and dancing and laughing with the boys.

She sighed and propped her elbow on the desk, resting her chin in her palm. She hummed a few bars of a song, then sang the words softly to herself:  **“The skies will all be blue, when my dreams come true…”**

As tears welled in her eyes, she added the next line: **“And I’ll smiling through… when my dreams come true.”**

She stood up and walked over to the window, leaning against the frame to sink down on the wide, low sill.  **“That Spanish castle I built in my mind will be a love-seat—the practical kind!”**

A familiar image—a boy with a square jaw and dark hair—formed in the droplets collecting on the outside of her window, and Katherine smiled at him.  **“And I’ll be there with you… when my dreams come true.”**

She jumped to her feet as the door opened and turned to face her father as he entered the room. “Father,” she offered him a vaguely mocking curtsy.

“Katherine,” he said stiffly. “How was your first day back at school?”

“Not so bad,” Katherine snapped. “Besides the fact that I had the school bullies breathing down my neck all day—except for when they wandered off to beat up some of my friends.”

Joseph Pulitzer pulled his watch out of his pocket and checked it, as though he were already bored with the conversation. “I’m sure that’s an exaggeration, dear.”

“It most certainly is not,” Katherine cried. “It was all over school—I’m sure you heard it too. After lunch, the Delancey twins beat up three kids in the second-floor hallway, two boys—one with a crutch—and a girl. I found out that they were all from the band at the club on Sunday, and two of them are people I’ve been friends with for years!”

“I didn’t hear anything about it,” Pulitzer sounded bored as he tucked the watch back into his pocket. “Therefore, it never happened.”

Katherine stopped short, jaw falling slack.

“Shut your mouth, dear. You’re not a frog trying to catch flies.”

“You’re really going to stand there and tell me that nothing will happen to Oscar and Morris Delancey for attacking three kids in the hall this afternoon?” Katherine demanded. Her heart was pounding in her ears, the rush of blood almost drowning out her father’s reply.

“Katherine, that’s just the way the world works. You step out of line, you pay the consequences. Now, are you coming to dinner?”

“I’m not hungry,” Katherine snapped, forcing the words through a tight throat.

“Very well. Have a good night then, my dear. I’ll drive you to school in the morning, so be ready to leave on time, please.”

Her father left the door open, and Katherine listened as his footsteps faded off down the hallway. She stood stock still, hands opening and closing into fists as she did her best to quell the anger trying to burn its way out of her chest. Finally, she gave up. She leapt across the floor, grabbed the door with both hands, and slammed it shut as hard as she could. She managed a step back before falling to her knees, hot tears of rage burning paths down her cheeks. Her hands balled into fists in her lap, gathering up the soft satin of her skirt.

After a moment, she looked up at the door.  **“You don't own me. I'm not just one of your many toys. You don't own me. Don't say I can't go with other boys.”** She rose slowly to her feet, moving slowly across her room as she continued.

**“And don't tell me what to do!**

**Don't tell me what to say!**

**And please, when I go out with you,**

**Don't put me on display 'cause**

**You don't own me!**

**Don't try to change me in any way!**

**You don't own me!**

**Don't tie me down 'cause I'd never stay!”**

She hopped up on the windowsill and turned to face the room, spreading her arms wide as she continued belting out the lyrics:

**“I don't tell you what to say,**

**I don't tell you what to do!**

**So just let me be myself—**

**That's all I ask of you!**

**I'm young and I love to be young!**

**I'm free and I love to be free!**

**To live my life the way I want,**

**To say and do whatever I please”**

She jumped down from the windowsill and ran across the room to her bed, spinning as she went so that her skirt flared out around her. She grabbed the post at the corner of her bed and swung around it, jumping up and over the corner of her bed gracefully to land and sink down in a puddle of lavender satin beside the bed.

**“And don't tell me what to do!**

**Oh, don't tell me what to say!**

**And please, when I go out with you,**

**Don't put me on display!”**

She climbed to her feet and stepped up onto the bed, jumping up and down on the mattress, shouting the words down to her father, although there was no way he could hear her in the dining room.

**“I don't tell you what to say!**

**Oh, don't tell you what to do!**

**So just let me be myself—**

**That's all I ask of you!”**

She let herself fall back onto the bed, hair splayed across the pillows, and caught her breath. She sighed to herself and rolled onto her side, burying her face in one pillow and clutching the other tightly in her arms. “ **I'm young and I love to be young. I'm free and I love to be free.”** She whispered the words a few times over into the pillow as she slowly drifted off…


	4. Chapter 4

**“Hey nonny ding dong, alang, alang, alang**

**Boom ba-doh, ba-doo, ba-doodle-ay**

**Oh, life could be a dream…”**

Elaine O’Dell wore high-collared shirts for the next week and a half, to hide the ugly yellow, green, and purple bruise that blossomed over her sternum where Morris Delancey’s elbow had slammed into her. Much easier to hide was the significantly larger black, blue, and violet bruise that covered her right hip and half of her thigh. Her leg was stiff the morning after the altercation, and she spent her time before school limping back and forth across her room until she could walk almost perfectly. Well enough to fool her father and stepmother, at least.

**“If I could take you up in paradise up above...”**

The bruise on Mush Myers’s cheek from Morris Delancey’s shoe swelled up overnight and he could hardly see out of that eye in the morning. It turned an ugly black, with deep red and violet shot through it. He considered skipping school, but thought against it when he heard his father crash through the door of their tiny apartment, piss-drunk after being out all night. He slipped through the door as his father snored senselessly on the couch.

**“If you would tell me I'm the only one that you love...”**

Crutchie Morris’s foster family never asked where the bruises on his face came from. He was alright with that. It seemed worse to explain to them what had happened, especially since he already worried about being a burden to them. He kept his head down and ate his breakfast in silence, excused himself quietly, and slipped out the door while his foster mother fussed over her two-year-old daughter, who had flung oatmeal all over the table. Tommy was waiting outside the house with his mint-green car to drive them to school, as he had every day since the middle of sophomore year when he had finally saved up enough to buy the car. Crutchie offered him a small smile, the action pulling at the split in his lip, and climbed into the passenger seat without a word.

**“Life could be a dream, sweetheart...”**

At school, the gang stuck together, as much as they could with Pulitzer’s ‘groups of three or fewer’ rule hanging over their heads. Jack, Race, Albert, Finch, and Mush never let Elaine, Cora, and Crutchie out of their sight, and they all stuck in clumps of two or three to pass through the halls. They were fortunate in that Oscar and Morris seemed to be largely preoccupied by their new role as Katherine’s shadows, but certainly didn’t abandon their torment of other students. The resolute trios and pairs of the gang seemed to give them pause, as they no longer had solo targets to pick on. Or, more accurately, their only options for solo targets were generally Spot, Blink, or Smalls—who were probably the only people in the entire school who made Oscar and Morris Delancey think twice about picking a fight with them.

**“Oh, life could be a dream…”**

Having so many friends at his back was an adjustment for Davey Jacobs. He had never been friendless, per se, but he had never had so many people standing up for him, and it took him a bit of getting used to. However, he quickly adjusted to it, and soon joined the other boys in escorting the girls and Crutchie from class to class. The most common time for him to join in on this practice was after his and JoJo’s calculus class. Finch would meet the two of them outside of their classroom, and they would walk JoJo to his next class, then meet Mush on the way to Elaine and Cora’s history class.

The first time they did this, Davey walked with his heart in his mouth. It had been determined that he would walk Cora to her art class, since he had a study hall in the same direction. Mush and Finch would walk Elaine to her class, in the opposite direction.

Davey Jacobs had never considered himself a coward, but, in this moment, facing the concept of walking a pretty girl to her class with no-one else around—at least, no-one paying remote attention to the two of them—he found himself practically terrified. As Elaine and Cora walked out of the classroom, chatting to one another, Finch stepped forward to intercept them. He directed Cora to Davey, standing with his back to the lockers against the far wall, and then offered his arm to Elaine, who accepted it, and headed off with him and Mush.

Cora walked up to Davey and smiled shyly up at him, looking up through her eyelashes. Davey became acutely aware of the color of her eyes—a soft green that was almost mint, and looked absolutely perfect with her halo of blond curls. He swallowed a sudden lump in his throat and wrapped his arms more tightly around his textbooks.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” said Cora. She smiled again and fell in beside him as he started walking.

They walked in silence, dodging the other students jammed into the hallway like sardines as they headed for the art rooms on the far side of campus. “So… what class are you heading to?” Davey asked.

“Drawin’,” said Cora. A pause. “You?”

“Study hall,” said Davey.

A longer pause. Davey opened his mouth to say something, but before he could someone slammed into Cora’s shoulder, sending her stumbling for her. Reflexively, Davey reached out to catch her, nearly dropping his armful of books in the process. He managed to get his hand out in time to catch her wrist and pull her back onto her feet before she hit the floor. Another tug pulled her in close for half a second, just long enough to get a whiff of pine needles and ozone, and then he turned them both so that Cora was now walking along the wall and he was walking next to the other students in the hall, so that anyone else would run into Davey, not her.

Davey’s hand lingered on Cora’s arm for just a second longer than necessary, but that second felt like a thousand to both of them. When Davey pulled away, he felt like his head was spinning. There was no possible way that Cora couldn’t hear his heart pounding. Cora felt like the spot he had touched on her wrist was burning—but in a good way, like when hot water in the shower first hits cold skin. She felt heat rise in her cheeks as well, and ducked her head down even further, chewing on her lower lip as a smile slowly lit up her face. She hugged the arm he had grabbed against her chest, savoring the lingering warmth from his hand.

“I’m so sorry—did I hurt you?” Davey asked, noticing the way she was cradling her arm where he had caught her.

“No, not at all!” Cora said quickly. Her head shot up and she looked him in the eye, but broke eye contact almost immediately, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks again.

Davey noticed how flushed she was, and was about to ask if she was feeling alright when she stopped abruptly.

“This is me!” Cora said. She flashed him a quick smile and ducked into the art room, still cradling her arm. She glanced over her shoulder a few steps in, and offered him another smile and a little wave.

Davey turned away reluctantly and dragged himself to his study hall, making it there just as the bell rang. He sank down into a seat and stared off into space.  _ Well. That went well. _

**“If only all my precious plans would come true**

**If you would let me spend my whole life lovin' you...”**

As she walked down the hall, arm-in-arm with Finch, Elaine glanced back over her shoulder and grinned to herself at the sight of Cora and Davey walking together.

“What’re you lookin’ at?” Finch asked, turning to look behind them as well.

“Nothing,” Elaine grinned up at him, giving his arm a little squeeze. “I’m just glad the two of them finally have a reason to talk to each other.”

“What’s that mean?” Finch asked.

“It’s just that Cora’s kind of had a crush on Davey since… freshman year, really, but she’s never had an excuse to talk to him. She didn’t know his name until he came to auditions. She was really happy about that, also. I’m just happy to see her smile.” She turned a wary eye on Finch. “And you will never say a word of that to anyone. If you do, I will kick out your kneecaps and scoop out your eyes with a spoon.” She turned to Mush. “That goes for you too.”

They boys traded concerned glances over her head.

“Um?” said Finch.

“Oh, that’s my class,” said Elaine, pointing at a door just ahead of them. She let go of Finch’s arm and skipped ahead, stopping in the doorway to offer him a little wave and a smile. “I’ll see you later!”

Mush shook his head and laughed, following after Elaine as Finch headed for his own class, two doors down the hall.

“Where are you going?” Elaine asked.

“To class,” Mush pointed up at the doorway they were both standing in.

“This is my class,” said Elaine.

“Well, it’s mine too,” Mush retorted.

They stood in silence for a moment, staring at one another. “Wait, you have German with Frau Achenbach?” Elaine asked. “Since when?”

“All year,” Mush said.

“How have I never noticed you?” Elaine demanded, finally stepping into the classroom and heading for her seat.

Mush rolled his eyes. “You forgot that we had two years of choir together in middle school. I’m not surprised that you haven’t noticed we were in the same class for the past few weeks.” He sat in the seat behind her, and Elaine whipped around, nearly smacking both of them in the face with her ponytail.

“ _ You sit in the seat behind me? _ ” she gaped.

“Ja, fraulein,” Mush stifled a laugh. “Turn around, or Frau will scold you.”

Elaine turned back to face the front of the class, grumbling to herself.

Their teacher, a small, round woman with wiry grey hair and matching glasses stood at the front of the class. “Who can tell me the gender of the noun ‘bank’?”

**“Life could be a dream, sweetheart!”**

Over the next few weeks, the gang’s system for walking each other to class turned into a well-oiled machine of sorts. They came to expect each other outside of classrooms and around corners. It was common for two trios to pass in a hallway, and for one person to split off from each to join the other group, passing in the center of the corridor so that,  _ technically _ , they weren’t in a group of six, but in two groups of three. Then, with a flurry of cheeky grins, dramatic waves, and half-shouted quips, the groups would be gone, heading in opposite directions, and chattering amongst themselves as if they’d all been together the whole time.

As many afternoons as they could, they would head to Medda’s club after school for rehearsal. This often looked like many of them hauling their instruments to school in the morning, loading them into Tommy or Spot’s car for the day, and then as many bodies as possible cramming into what little space was left in the vehicles to drive over to the club, anyone who couldn’t hitch a ride already on their way on foot. Buttons always rode with someone so that he could start setting things up while they waited for everyone else to trickle in, so that by the time everyone was there, all of the equipment was ready and waiting to be used.

**“Now every time I look at you**

**Something is on my mind…”**

Mush spent all of his free time writing music. He was caught several times by teachers, scribbling furiously in the margins of his notebook as he planned out parts and pieces, and wound up with detention twice. He wasn’t the only one consumed by music—both Spot and Elmer were scolded for drumming rhythms on their desks with pencils. Jack actually started singing in class once and was given detention—where he was joined by a sheepish Tommy, who had also started singing his own trumpet part. Even Davey Jacobs, who had proudly been able to say that he had never received a detention or suspension in his life, found himself kept after school after one particularly strict teacher found him practicing a piano piece by tapping out on his desk.

They weren’t the only ones consumed by the project, however. One afternoon in German class, Mush was hit in the face by a note hurriedly tossed over Elaine’s shoulder. Reading it took some work, as it was written in a combination of English and German, but he eventually worked out what she meant. That afternoon, they walked to the club together, chattering over one another the whole way, and burst through the doors, buzzing with excitement. They went to Jack first.

“Jack!” Mush called, making a beeline for the other boy, Elaine trailing along behind him.

“Huh?” Jack asked, snapping out of the focus he’d had on the sheet music spread on the table in front of him. He had never been particularly good with musical notation, and the fact that Mush’s music was all handwritten, scrawled across an assortment of scrap paper, didn’t help the situation.

“Elaine had a great idea!”

“How do you feel about costumes?” Elaine said.

“Costu”—

“Well, not really costumes,” Elaine interrupted. “More like… specific outfits to perform in?”

Jack arched an eyebrow. “Isn’t that a costume?”

“Well, technically yes, but it’s not going to be, like, weird outfits or anything,” Elaine explained. “But I had this idea in class today, and I think it could be neat!”

Jack glanced between them. “And the idea is..?”

“Okay, well, you know how the band’s name is ‘Jack Kelly and the Newsies’?” Elaine said.

“Yes. Because I came up with the name.”

“Well, I thought it would be kind of cool if youse kind of dressed like newsies used to,” said Elaine. “Not exactly like, but sort of… clothes inspired by the late 1800s and early 1900s. Simple stuff: wide-legged trousers, white button down shirts, and then suspenders and newsboy caps. Nothing fancy, nothing weird.”

“Yeah, but where are we gonna get that stuff?” Jack asked.

“Leave it to me,” Elaine shrugged. “I’ll figure out the trousers, suspenders, and hats. Just about everyone around here should have a white button-down—or at least a button-down of some kind—right?”

Jack shrugged. “Probably.”

“So we’ll start there!”

**“If you do what I want you to**

**Baby, we'd be so fine!”**

Elaine spent that afternoon getting a list of clothes from the boys, and the next flitting around the room with a tape measure, and then vanished from rehearsals for the rest of the week, as did Cora (the latter seeming significantly more reluctant about it). Sunday morning, they appeared in Finch’s truck, along with a sizable box, which turned out to be full of wide-legged trousers in a variety of sizes and colors.

“Where did you get these?” Jack asked, holding up a pair that was nearly large enough to fit two of him in.

“Oh, my stepmother has friends who have a little theatre downtown. She used to make me and Alan perform there. I’m still friends with the ladies who did costumes, though, and asked if we could use some of their stuff. They let us come over a few days this week and go through their stock with them, and said we could keep all of this.” Elaine said all of this while elbow and shoulder-deep in the box, digging through its contents. She finally came up with a pair of grey trousers, which she tossed to Albert. “Try those on.”

Jack held out the giant pair he was holding. “Why exactly did you keep these? There’s no way they’ll fit anyone around here.”

Elaine shrugged. “I could always alter them down, or just completely remake them to fit someone. It’s a lot of material, and I didn’t want it to go to waste.”

“She’s a pack rat,” said Cora.

Elaine passed out a few more pairs of pants, along with a few flat caps, and then spent the rest of the rehearsal pinning up hems and marking other alterations.

**“Oh, life could be a dream**

**If I could take you up in paradise up above…”**

Two days later, when they reconvened for the next rehearsal, Elaine returned with the same box, along with dark circles under her eyes and bandaids on most of her fingertips, and passed the pants back out to their owners.

“What are you and Cor gonna wear, Laine?” Race asked, returning from the bathroom in a pair of khaki-colored slacks, a slightly oversized white button-down, brown suspenders and shoes, and a brown and white tweed cap.

“You’ll see,” Elaine replied with a laugh, offering him a hand as he climbed up onto a chair for her to check the hems on his pants.

**“If you would tell me I'm the only one that you love**

**Life could be a dream, sweetheart!”**

Three days later, Elaine arrived with a bundle of clothes that she passed to Cora. When Cora returned from changing, Albert turned around, saw her and did a double take before letting out a short laugh. “Race! You shrunk!”

The others turned to look as well and called out similar sentiments as Cora stood blushing. She was dressed in a pair of khaki slacks—more tailored than the boys, but still similar—almost the exact same color as her brother’s, a too-large white button-down, and a pair of brown suspenders that matched her shoes. She also had a brown cap, and had pulled it down low so that only the ends of her blonde curls were poking out from under it. In this outfit, she truly did look like a mini version of her brother.

Race walked over to his sister and grinned, sizing her up. “We match!” he declared finally.

Cora laughed and swatted him in the arm.

Davey walked out of the other bathroom, wearing his performance clothes, and stopped short when he saw Cora and Race standing there. Race laughed again and walked back to his bass, leaving Davey and Cora alone by the bar, everyone else’s attention already diverted—mostly by Elaine marking alterations on pants for the band’s substitutes, now that the costumes for the primary members were finished.

“You, uh…” Davey’s voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “You look nice!”

“Thanks!” Cora looked up and gave him a bright smile, eyes shining with happiness.

Davey grinned back and hurried over to the piano, sat down on the bench, and smiled down at the keys, feeling his own face get warm.

Spot set a simple rhythm going on his drum set, Davey joining in after a moment. The others picked up the song as they went, particularly Crutchie and Tommy, who had a steady brass part in the number.

**“Sh-boom sh-boom, ya-da-da da-da-da da-da-da da**

**Sh-boom sh-boom, ya-da-da da-da-da da-da-da da**

**Sh-boom sh-boom, ya-da-da da-da-da da-da-da da sh-boom**

**Sh-boom sh-boom, ya-da-da da-da-da da-da-da da**

**Sh-boom sh-boom, ya-da-da da-da-da da-da-da da**

**Sh-boom sh-boom, ya-da-da da-da-da da-da-da da sh-boom”**

Davey sang along with Albert, Race, and Jack—Jack and Albert had the melody line, while Race and Davey took the main harmony—and the girls joined in after the first repeat of the doo-wop lines, Elaine picking up Race and Davey’s harmony, while Cora sang a similar higher harmony, her clear soprano ringing out prettily over the lower voices.

**“Every time I look at you**

**Somethin' is on my mind**

**If you do what I want you to**

**Baby, we'd be so fine!”**

Jack sang the verse, with Race, Cora, and Elaine doo-wopping softly in the background. Davey and Albert hit specific words with harmonies to accent Jack’s melody, and then they all launched back into the full harmony for the rest of the song:

**“Life could be a dream**

**If I could take you up in paradise up above**

**If you would tell me I'm the only one that you love**

**Life could be a dream, sweetheart**

**Hello hello again, sh-boom and hopin' we'll meet again**

**Boom sh-boom**

**Hey nonny ding dong, alang, alang, alang**

**Ba-doh, ba-doo, ba-doodle-ay**

**Life could be a dream**

**Life could be a dream, sweetheart**

**Life could be a dream**

**If only all my precious plans would come true**

**If you would let me spend my whole life lovin' you**

**Life could be a dream, sweetheart”**

The song ended with one last **“Sweetheart!”** belted over a brass fanfare and flourish on the drums. The girls turned to each other and high-fived, and then Elaine flitted off to finish pinning the trousers the twins were wearing while Mush came to give them his notes about the song.

Before anyone knew what was happening, it was the morning of the show. Most of them came early to the club that morning, many already dressed in their performance clothes. Buttons and Finch triple-checked the equipment as they set it up, and made the band do a full sound check before they started rehearsing. Elaine was the last to arrive, looking harried, with her dark hair uncharacteristically wild. She handed out the few costume pieces she had taken home with her after the last rehearsal for last-minute adjustments, then disappeared into the bathroom, reappearing ten minutes later with her hair tucked and twisted into a neat braided bun at the nape of her neck.

“Elaine, what are you wearin’ for the show?” Mike called out as she helped Ike fasten his suspenders to the buttons on the back waistband of his pants.

“This!” she called back. She took a step away from Ike and did a little spin. She was wearing a dark grey wool skirt that hit her legs just above the ankles, and flared out a little when she spun—not as much as her usual circle skirts, but enough for effect—to show off white stockings and brown ankle boots. She also wore a white button-down, like most of the others, with a pair of suspenders, and pulled a grey and brown flat cap out of her pocket and over her hair. “Ta-da! What do you think?”

“You ain’t wearin’ pants like Cora?” Ike asked, looking her up and down.

“I would look like I was three feet tall in pants like that,” Elaine laughed. “Anyways, I prefer skirts.”

Albert grabbed her hand as he walked past and gave her a spin, snatching her cap off of her head with his other hand. “You look nice, shortstack!” he called over his shoulder as he walked away, spinning the cap on his finger.

Finch grabbed the cap from Albert as he passed and walked over to return it to Elaine, offering her a wink as he handed it to her.

Elaine giggled and took the hat back, resettling it on her head. She joined Cora between Race and Crutchie, where Buttons and Finch had set up their microphones.

The band spent the rest of the morning performing, but several of the other boys went out to hand out the last of the flyers they’d had printed for the event. Elaine saw that everyone was dressed properly with their trousers, suspenders, and hats—“It’ll be more distinctive and recognizable if we wear these clothes for anything related to our shows”—but also swore them to caution as they left—“If any of you come back with dirt or rips or anything of the sort in your clothes, you’ll regret it!”

Around two o’clock, they finished rehearsing and left the club for lunch.

“Be back by five!” Mush called after Race, Albert, and Jack as they booked it out the door.

Albert stuck his head back in. “Show ain’t until seven thirty!”

“Yeah, but I don’t want any of youse comin’ late,” Mush shot him a warning glare.

“Okay, okay!” Albert held up his hands in defeat.

“Remember: if you get anything on your clothes, I’ll kill you myself!” Elaine added as Albert disappeared out the door.

Crutchie laughed. “We’ll be careful,” he promised, following Tommy, Cora, and Davey out the back door.

“Come on,” Finch offered his arm to Elaine. “Let’s get something from the diner down the street.”

“Sure,” Elaine grinned up at him. As they walked past Mush, she slipped her other arm through his and tugged him along with them. “Let’s go. You’re eating with us.”

“Yeah, come on!” Finch grinned at him over Elaine’s head.

“We all know that if we don’t drag you along you won’t eat anything,” Elaine added.

Mush rolled his eyes, but relented easily, allowing himself to be dragged out the door and into Finch’s truck. When they returned at four thirty, most of the others had also gotten back to the club, and were gathered in the back alleyway around Tommy and Spot’s cars. Predictably, Jack, Race, and Albert were the last to return—although they were still early—strolling along the alley and chattering happily to each other.

“Oh, come on!” Albert cried, surveying the group. “How are we the last ones here?”

“Yeah, we came back early so we could prove that we weren’t always late, and we’re  _ still _ the last ones!” Race grumbled.

“Well, you’re not late, at least,” Crutchie teased.

The closer it got to showtime, the more nervous they all got. Some of the non-performers went into the club to mind the door and collect the $.25 entry fee that Medda had proposed. Blink and Romeo had eagerly volunteered themselves as bouncers—although they weren’t likely to need such services, seeing as no alcohol would be served, as it was an under twenty-one night—and seemed to take much joy in prowling around the edges of the club, looking as tough as possible.

Cora stood tucked between Race and Jack, bouncing nervously on the balls of her feet and picking at her fingers. Race glanced down at her and gave her a small smile, slinging his arms over her shoulder. “It’ll be okay, Cor; you’ll be great.”

“But what if something happens?” she whispered, eyes trained on the ground between her feet.

Race stepped forward and turned around to rest his hands on Cora’s shoulders, bending down a little to look her in the eyes. “What’s the worst-case scenario here?”

Cora looked up. “There are a lot.”

“Okay; what are they?”

“Well… what if I forget all the lyrics?”

“Easy; just pretend to sing along, like your mic cut out. Next?”

“What if I forget when to come in?”

“You got Elaine right next to ya. She’ll remind you.”

“Assuming I remember when to come in,” Elaine retorted from where she was sat on the gate of Finch’s pickup truck, swinging her legs.

“Okay, so Crutchie will remind Elaine, and Elaine will remind you, Cor,” Race laughed.

“Got it!” said Crutchie with a grin, seated next to Elaine.

“What else?” Race asked, turning back to Cora, who had begun to smile.

“Um… What if I sing the wrong words?”

“Just listen to what everyone else is singin’ to remember where you are in the song,” Race suggested. “At any given time, some combination of me, Al, Jack, Crutchie, and Laine will be singin’. Just listen to what we’re sayin’.”

“And if you ever  _ really _ lose your place or forget what you’re supposed to be singin’, it’s okay to just stop,” Mush said. “Don’t worry about it if you have to do that. It’ll be fine.”

“Right,” Race nodded firmly. “What else do you got?”

“Um…” Cora looked thoughtful. “I guess nothin’ else specific.”

“Great!” Race said. “That’s not so bad, then!”

“But it’s so busy in there!” Cora protested. “There are so many people, and if I mess up, they’ll all see it!”

Davey took a step closer and slipped his hand around Cora’s, giving hers a gentle squeeze. “You’ll do great,” he smiled down at her.

Cora looked up at him and a smile spread over her face as well. “Thanks.”

Race rolled his eyes and straightened up, throwing his hands up in the air. “Oh, I see how it is. I say it, it means nothin’, but a soon as  _ Davey _ does”—

“Oh, enough,” said Albert, whacking Race on the arm with his hat.

“We should get going, guys,” Jack said. He straightened up and took a step forward. “Come on. Everybody in.”

They all crowded around into a tight circle and stretched their hands out into the middle. Finch grabbed Elaine by the hand and pulled her in front of him so that her arm could actually reach, earning laughter from several of the others. Race gave Cora a similar tug to get her hand into the middle as well. Jack looked around the group, at the faces of his friends. “Everybody ready?” he asked, a nervous grin creeping across his face.

A disconnected chorus of half-hearted ‘yeah’s went around the group.

Jack shook his head. “I said, is everybody  _ ready _ ?”

This time, the chorus was louder and closer to being in unison.

“Come on, guys! Are you ready!?”

“YEAH!” came the shout, followed by more nervous laughter.

“ _ That’s _ what I wanted to hear!” Jack grinned. “Newsies on three. One, two three”—

“NEWSIES!”

The cheer echoed off the walls of the alley, as did the laughter and cheering that followed it. The boys headed for the door to the theatre, chattering and bouncing with excitement. Finch wrapped an arm around Elaine’s shoulders and gave her a squeeze before heading into the building with Buttons to check over the equipment one last time. The musicians and the last of the boys who weren’t performing followed them after a minute, and soon the sounds of amplified instruments warming up eeked through the cracked-open club door. Elaine and Cora stood in the alleyway for an extra moment. Elaine grabbed Cora by the hands and gave them a little squeeze, grinning up at her friend.

“Here we go,” she giggled, hopping up and down a few times.

“Here we go,” Cora gulped nervously.

They stood still for another moment, Elaine closing her eyes and turning her face up to the darkening sky, while Cora looked down at the pavement under their feet, mouthing lyrics silently to herself.

Over by the club door, Mush cleared his throat. Both of the girls looked at him, smiling sheepishly.

“We’s comin’,” Cora sighed. She dropped Elaine’s hands, squared her shoulders, and walked to the door.

Mush stopped her before she could go in, holding out a closed fist. Cora put her hand out under it, and he opened his hand to drop a pair of earplugs into hers. “Those should help with the noise.”

Cora’s face lit up and she gave him a quick hug before putting the earplugs in. She turned around, gave Elaine two thumbs up, and entered the club. As Elaine slipped past Mush, she reached up to give him a high five. He grabbed her hand and gave it a quick squeeze, patting her on the shoulder with the other hand as he followed her into the club.

.*.*.*.*.*.

Jack Kelly took a deep breath and looked out over the packed room in front of him. Medda’s was jammed to capacity—and then some—with teenagers, many of which Jack recognized from school. The heat from the lights over the stage warmed the back of his shoulders, and he was already sweating under the newsboy cap Elaine had given him, the scratchy material damp against his forehead. His eyes searched the crowd for a friendly face, and found Blink and Romeo against the far wall, Mike and Ike still in the doorway, and the rest of the gang scattered around the room. Mush, Finch, and Buttons had managed to find seats at the bar, just where Jack could see them out of the corner of his eye, and he turned his head just a little bit to focus on them. 

Behind him, he heard Spot bump one of his cymbals and quickly still it to mute the noise. Elaine cleared her throat, and Cora made a little noise. He turned his head further to look at Davey, at the piano off to his left, and then Albert, beside Davey. They both nodded, and Davey offered him a little smile. He looked to his right, scanning Tommy, Crutchie, Cora, Elaine, and Race in turn. Everyone was ready. He noticed that Elaine and Cora had linked their pinkies together even as they gave him nervous smiles.

Jack took another deep breath and smiled out to the audience. “Hey, everybody!”

The microphone screeched, and Jack leaned back a little to glare at it. This earned some quiet laughter from the audience, which bolstered his confidence.

“I said,  _ hey, everybody _ !”

This time, the call was met with a smattering of cheers. Jack took it.

“I’m Jack Kelly, and these are the Newsies!” he gestured to the band behind him. “We hope you like what you hear tonight!”

There was more cheering for this, but Jack had a feeling a lot of that came from his friends around the room. He didn’t complain, though.

Jack took another deep breath.  **“I’d like to thank the guy who wrote the song that made my baby fall in love with me!”** He strummed his guitar slowly as he sang, and immediately after the final word, the rest of the band picked up, starting with Spot on the drums, then Albert, Race, and the girls singing, and so on.

**“Who put the bomp in the bomp bah bomp bah bomp**

**Who put the ram in the rama lama ding dong**

**Who put the bop in the bop shoo bop shoo bop**

**Who put the dip in the dip da dip da dip**

**Who was that man**

**I'd like to shake his hand**

**He made my baby fall in love with me!”**

**“Yeah!”** Albert added, earning more laughter from the audience.

To Jack’s relief, he noticed several people in the audience already starting to move and dance to the song, and saw more happy than displeased faces, which was another point of relief for him.

**“When my baby heard**

**"Bomp bah bah bomp bah bomp bah bomp bah bomp bomp"**

**Every word went right into her heart**

**And when she heard them singin'**

**"Rama lama lama lama, rama ding dong"**

**She said we'd never have to part**

**So,”**

For the chorus, he heard Cora’s soprano soar up and above everything else, warbling sweetly. Elaine sung the same part an octave lower, and less audible over the other sounds in the same range.

**“Who put the bomp in the bomp bah bomp bah bomp**

**Who put the ram in the rama lama ding dong**

**Who put the bop in the bop shoo bop shoo bop**

**Who put the dip in the dip da dip da dip**

**Who was that man**

**I'd like to shake his hand**

**He made my baby fall in love with me”**

**“Yeah!”** Albert added in again.

The next verse Jack sung primarily on his own, the others just coming in to echo him on the doo-wop lines:

**“Each time that we're alone**

**Boogity boogity boogity boogity boogity boogity shoo**

**Sets my baby's heart all aglow**

**And every time we dance to**

**Dip da dip da dip dip da dip da dip**

**She always says she loves me so**

**So,**

**Who put the bomp in the bomp bah bomp bah bomp**

**Who put the ram in the rama lama ding dong**

**Who put the bop in the bop shoo bop shoo bop**

**Who put the dip in the dip da dip da dip**

**Who was that man**

**I'd like to shake his hand**

**He made my baby fall in love with me!”**

They faded the song out slowly, each person dropping out one at a time, until only Spot was left—and then they each came back in again as they picked up the next song.

.*.*.*.*.*.

After the show, they bowed themselves out to thunderous applause, played two encores, and then ducked out to the back alley, closely followed by the rest of the gang. Cora was jumping up and down, squealing happily, and flapping her hands, and Race was bouncing with her, trying to get Albert to join in. Everyone was talking over each other and hugging and shaking hands, their excitement palpable in the cool night air. Elaine gave Finch a big hug, pulled away to give one to Mush as well, and then tucked herself back under Finch’s arm, beaming widely. Jack felt a tap on his shoulder, and turned to see Crutchie standing behind him, wearing the biggest smile Jack had ever seen on his face. Jack laughed and pulled Crutchie into a hug.

“You were great, kid!”

“ _ You _ were great, Jack!” Crutchie pulled away and beamed up at him, eyes crinkled up at the corners.

“Yeah, we couldn’t have done this without you,” said Albert, pulling himself away from Race and Cora to sling an arm around Jack’s shoulders.

“It’s  _ Jack Kelly _ and the Newsies,” Race added, walking over to join them, Cora trailing along behind him, still bouncing on the balls of her feet, nose crinkling and uncrinkling.

“Without Jack Kelly, there is—are?—no Newsies,” Elaine added.

“You brought everyone here together,” said Crutchie. “ _ You’re _ the one who introduced Albert and Race, and brought me, and Finch, and Mush in when we were all kids.  _ You _ convinced half of us to take music class with Medda in middle school—because you said it would be easy, but still—and that’s where we met most everyone else. And when Albert brought Spot and Tommy and Blink,  _ you  _ were the one who made them welcome first.”

Jack looked at all of the smiling faces surrounding him. He felt an unfamiliar prickling at the back of his eyes. Jack Kelly didn’t cry, but right now he was considering it. But in a good way. “Youse are all saps,” he grumbled.

Another wave of laughter rippled through the group.

“Jack, you’re the one that made us all welcome here,” Mush popped up on Jack’s other side and added his arm to Albert’s around Jack’s shoulders. “The one who  _ kept _ us together. We wouldn’t be here without you.”

Jack groaned. “Saps. Every one of youse.”

In the laughter that followed, Cora darted forward to wrap her arms around Jack’s middle, squeezing him tightly. She was followed closely by Race, and then Finch and Elaine, and suddenly everyone was crowded around, hugging each other and laughing in one big clump of bodies.

They stayed like that for quite a while, until Jack started to try and squirm his way out from the center of the mass. Then, everyone broke apart, still laughing and chattering from their performance high. As they continued celebrating, Specs and JoJo slipped away, returning a few minutes later with Medda. “Hey, everyone!” Specs shouted, waving his arms as an extra measure to get everyone’s attention.

It took a few moments, but, soon enough, everyone had quieted down and turned to face the three of them at the stage door. Medda beamed out over the group, radiating pride and joy over them. “You were all absolutely  _ wonderful _ tonight. I couldn’t be prouder of any one of you. That was a magnificent show.” She laughed and gave a little shrug. “There’s nothing more to say. It was truly wonderful. If you’d’ve told me four or five years ago that a bunch of the rowdy boys and girls in my music classes would become  _ this _ … well, I wouldn’t have believed you.”

“Well, we couldn’t’ve done it without you, Miss Medda,” Jack said. “You’re the one who taught most of us how to play and sing, and you gave us a place to rehearse.”

“Yes, well, now it’s time for me to call up that favor you owe me in exchange for rehearsing here,” said Medda with a small. “As you may recall, I agreed to let you all rehearse in my club when it was otherwise not in use, and, in exchange, once you started playing shows, you would do so here for no fee. Well, you’ve just played an absolutely  _ smashing _ show, so I have an offer for you.”

The teenagers waited in silence, breath bated, for Medda to continue.

“Sunday evenings. Seven thirty. Sixteen-to-twenty nights. Tonight was a hit, and, while I haven’t gone over everything, it was certainly a good night for the club. Now, as agreed upon in the deal, I won’t pay you for performing.  _ However _ , I will cover marketing costs, and pay for non-musical services—such for as those of you who worked the doors and as bouncers tonight, as well as a flat fee for time spent advertising the shows.”

The teens traded glances, thrilled with the offer. Jack looked down at Mush, who nodded, and then at JoJo and Specs’s beaming faces, before settling on Medda.

“You got it, Miss Medda.”


	5. Chapter 5

The morning after the concert, the school was abuzz with chatter about the previous night’s show. Jack couldn’t make it more than a few feet without being stopped—mostly by cute girls, which he didn’t complain too much about—and complimented on his performance.

“We’s gotta be careful or jumpin’ Jack is gonna get a swell head,” Race whispered to Cora, who hid a snigger behind her hand.

The only people in the school who didn’t seem to be pleased with the success of the concert were Principal Pulitzer himself, and Oscar and Morris Delancey. However, a fortunate side effect of being swarmed by adoring fans was that the bullies couldn’t get close enough to lay a hand on any of them. They kept on their toes, however; this newfound popularity couldn’t last forever, and the Delanceys were sure to be waiting when it was gone.

On their way to lunch, Jack, Mush, and Finch were approached by three other boys. They were instantly recognizable; Bill Hearst Jr., Darcey Reid, and Alan O’Dell were some of the most popular kids in school, football jocks with a reputation for kindness—a rare combination.

“Kelly!” the tall, dark-haired boy at the front of the group grinned and waved, stepping forward and sticking his hand out at Jack. “I’m Alan O’Dell. I think you know my sister.”

“Elaine,” Mush whispered when Jack just stared quizzically at Alan.

“ _ Oh _ ,” said Jack, nodding quickly. “Yeah. Wait—what?” He looked Alan up and down. “Seriously?”

“We’re twins, believe it or not,” Alan laughed.

“I thought twins were supposed to look alike,” said Jack.

“Only identical ones,” Alan winked. He turned to Mush. “Nick Meyers, right? I think we did choir together in middle school.”

“Yep,” Mush nodded.

“You grew.”

“Thankfully.”

“Sorry, that’s not what we wanted to talk to you about,” Alan laughed. “Like I said, I’m Alan, and this is Bill, and Darcey.”

Bill stepped forward and stuck his hand out to Jack. “Nice to meet you!”

“Yeah, what exactly is this about?” Jack asked, shaking Bill’s hand hesitantly.

“Well, my father owns Hearst Copy and Printing,” Bill explained. “I saw some of the flyers you guys were handing out for the show, and I figured I’d make you an offer. If you come to the store and ask for me, I can get your things printed for you at a discount.”

“Why would you do that?” Jack asked, suspicious. Mush elbowed him sharply in the ribs.

“Well, for one thing, Elaine is a friend of ours too,” Bill said. “We want to help her out, and helping you out is helping her. Plus, my dad is a jerk, and totally obsessed with money, so anything I can do to cut into his profits is always a bonus.”

“Geez, that’s harsh,” Finch muttered.

“Like I said, I saw the flyers, and, if I’m not mistaken, you guys already came to our store for your copies anyways. It’s the only one in the neighborhood—my dad keeps getting other copy shops that try to open around here shut down. So it’s not like you’ll be doing anything different than you already were, but you’ll be paying less for it.”

“That’s not much of a reason,” Jack narrowed his eyes.

“Well, Katherine Pulitzer also asked us to help you out,” Alan admitted. “She’s a friend, too. Plus, we thought it would be fun.”

Jack sighed. “I’ll talk to some of the others. We’ll see.”

He walked away. Mush rolled his eyes. “You’re right. We already went to Hearst for all that stuff. We’ll definitely take you up on that. Thank you.”

“Jack can’t admit any of that because he thinks it makes him seem less cool,” Finch laughed.

They all headed into the cafeteria after Jack. “Hey, Alan, you sing, right?” Mush asked. “I mean, I know you were in choir with me and Elaine and Cora, but do you still sing?”

“Yeah, sometimes,” Alan shrugged. “I don’t have a lot of time for it with sports and everything.” He pointed a thumb over his shoulder at Darcey. “He plays the sax, so sometimes when we don’t have anything else to do, he comes over and we play music with Elaine, and that’s most of the time I get to spend on it.”

Mush nodded. “Cool. Well, we’ll see you around.”

Finding a seat in the cafeteria was difficult. For the past two years, they’d all sat at the same table every day, everyone else in the school too worried about Spot and Blink to come near, but, now that they weren’t allowed to be in groups larger than three, it took a little more figuring. At their old table, there were three trios, staggered so that they weren’t  _ technically _ sitting in groups of more than three people, but the rest of the table had been taken up by strangers. On the edge of the small stage at the far side of the cafeteria, Spot sat with Tommy and Romeo, Blink and Smalls a few feet away on one side and Henry and Boots a few feet in the opposite direction. Cora sat with Race and Davey at a table off to the left. Besides the empty seats at their old table, there was hardly any place to sit in the cafeteria.

“Hey, come on,” Alan appeared behind them, nodding towards the outside pavilion. “There should be some spots outside. Elaine’s sitting with us, too.”

Mush and Finch traded glances, but shrugged and followed Alan, Bill, and Darcey outside. True enough, there were several empty spots at the table. Elaine and Katherine sat at one end of the table, going over some homework together. Alan ruffled Elaine’s hair as he passed, earning a yelp from her, but he sat down on the other side of the table with Bill and Darcey.

“Hey!” Elaine glared at her brother. “You messed up my hair!”

Alan shrugged.

“It looks fine, don’t worry,” Finch grinned, sliding onto the bench beside Elaine.

“Finch!” she grinned, giving him a quick one-armed hug. She glanced behind him and beamed up at Mush. “Hey! Come sit down.”

Mush sighed and slipped into the spot beside Finch. “Didn’t you two see each other last period? You know—when Finch walked you to class?”

Alan rolled his eyes. “Gross.”

Elaine stuck her tongue out at her brother and turned back to Katherine, leaving her arm around Finch’s waist.

“How ya been, Katherine?” Finch asked. “Hope your dad wasn’t too awful after the auditions.”

Katherine offered him a grateful smile. “Thank you for asking. It wasn’t so bad. He kept me home from school the first few days, and I’ve been grounded ever since. The worst part has been having the Delanceys breathing down my neck pretty much the whole time.”

“Ugh, the Delanceys,” Elaine grumbled into her sandwich.

“I know they’ve been going after some of you, too. I hope it hasn’t been too bad.”

Finch turned to look at Mush and grinned. “Well, Mush and Crutchie’s faces have finally healed up, so no  _ permanent _ damage was done.”

“Since we started walking each other everywhere it’s been better, because they won’t come after us in a group,” Mush added.

“Yeah, I’d noticed that,” Katherine laughed. “It’s kind of cute, actually.” She turned to Elaine. “In fact, did I see Davey Jacobs walking Cora around, or have my eyes deceived me?”

Elaine squealed a little and leaned forward conspiratorially. “No, your eyes aren’t playing tricks on you! He walks her from social studies to art, and I think to lunch after that, too. She spends the whole morning getting excited for it.”

Katherine giggled. “That’s great! They’d make such a cute couple! Maybe he’ll ask her out.”

“Yeah, right,” Alan snorted. “Davey Jacobs, ask a girl out? He’s too shy. Cora’s going to have to ask  _ him _ out if she wants a date with him.”

“I don’t know,” Katherine shrugged. “Maybe Cora will be the one he finally works up the nerve for.”

“Seems unlikely,” Alan shrugged. “But, then again, what do I know?”

.*.*.*.*.*.

The rest of the week flew by. Jack spent Monday evening at Mush’s with him and JoJo, making up a design for flyers to have printed. They managed to settle on something that would be usable for weekly shows, at least at Medda’s, and agreed to take it to Hearst’s print shop the next day, hoping to take Bill up on his offer. Tuesday evening after rehearsal—Bill told them to come later, since he’d be at football practice after school—Jack, Mush, and Elaine all crammed into the cab of Finch’s truck, and he drove them to the store. Jack spent the entire ride clinging onto the door next to him for dear life. Elaine, who was perched on Mush’s right leg and Jack’s left, certainly had the worst end of the deal, and braced herself against the dashboard as they bounced along. Mush and Jack both held onto her, largely out of a fear she’d wind up flying into the windshield if they hit a big enough bump.

“Oh, come on, it’s not that bad!” Finch grumbled, pulling into a spot on the street in front of the copy shop.

“It’s pretty bad!” Jack said. Elaine scooted over onto Mush’s lap to let Jack climb out of the truck, then he reached out to help her hop down.

They walked into the copy shop, somehow nervous despite having done so over half a dozen times before. Fortunately, Bill was immediately visible at the back of the shop, standing at the counter. He grinned and waved them over when he saw them. Alan was perched on a stool next to him, spinning himself around idly.

“Hey!” Bill called out once they got closer to the counter. “What can I do for you guys?”

“Sorry to come in… literally the day after you talked to us, but we were planning on doing this today anyways,” Jack said sheepishly.

“No, that’s fine,” Bill laughed.

“This is what we need copied,” Jack said, holding out his sketch. He gave Bill the numbers they needed, and Bill nodded along, scribbling them down on a notepad on the counter in front of him.

“Okay, when do you need these finished?” Bill asked.

“Um… I guess as soon as possible,” Jack said. “I think it usually takes about a week?”

“I can put a rush on it,” Bill shrugged. “They should be done by Thursday after school. Don’t worry—I won’t charge you for it.”

“Are you sure? We don’t want you to get in trouble,” said Elaine.

“What’s my old man going to do, not let me work in the store any more?” Bill asked. “Oh, no, I’ll be devastated. I hate this place.”

The boys traded bemused glances, but didn’t say anything. Bill gave them their total—over a third less than what they normally paid—and they handed over the payment, then headed out, Alan trailing after them.

“See you tomorrow, Bill!” he called over his shoulder as they left.

“Alan, do you need a ride home?” Finch asked with a grin. He patted the hood of his truck, ignoring the handful of rust flakes that fluttered off of it when he did.

Alan arched an eyebrow. “I don’t think I trust the safety of that thing enough to get in it.”

“Yeah, you’re not wrong,” Jack muttered. “Finch, you can’t put five people in your truck. There’s not enough space in the cab.”

“I’ve done it before.”

“I genuinely don’t want to know.”

They hadn’t initially noticed upon walking outside, but it had started raining while they were inside. In the few seconds between when Jack stopped talking and Alan opened his mouth to continue the conversation, a deep roll of thunder boomed across the buildings above them, and the rain very abruptly began to pour down around them. Finch and Mush immediately bolted to make sure the tarp stretched over equipment in the truck bed was securely in place, then ran back to join the others under the store’s awning.

“So…” said Alan. “Is that offer for a ride still good?”

.*.*.*.*.*.

It was not a comfortable ride. In order for Finch to have enough space to move, only three people could sit on the bench seat, which meant that the other two would have to sit on their laps. In the end, Jack crawled into the middle of the seat, Mush climbed onto his lap, Alan slid in next to him, and Elaine sat on her brother’s lap. Additionally, thanks to the weather, the traffic that would normally have been waning at this point in the day was still congesting the city streets, filling them with exhaust fumes, blaring horns, and lights that made the rain sparkle as it fell. Finch turned on the radio and cranked it up, and soon enough all of them were singing along. Every time the truck shuddered or hit a bump, Mush’s head met the ceiling, and he soon stopped trying to sit up and leaned forward onto the dash. Elaine rubbed the top of his head sympathetically, at the same time making a joke about her own height.

They dropped the twins off first, in front of an imposing townhouse in a decent neighborhood, and the boys watched them make a mad dash for the door through the pouring rain. Elaine slipped on something, but Alan grabbed her arm and dragged her upright and the rest of the way to the door. Once it was open, they darted inside, stopping to turn and wave to the boys back in the truck before closing the door behind them.

Wednesday came and went, and, directly after school on Thursday, Jack, Finch, and Mush drove again to Hearst’s to pick up the flyers before heading to rehearsal. Somehow, they weren’t the last ones to get there; Elaine hurried through the doors as JoJo was passing out the flyers and explaining his ideas for handing them out. Two small boys trailed in after Elaine.

“Hey! Tiny!” Finch called, giving one of the boys a high five. “Who’s your friend?”

“I’m Les,” the other boy said. He was the bigger of the two, if only slightly, with a head of wildly curly dark hair. The smaller boy had shorter, darker, straighter hair, wide brown eyes exactly like Elaine’s, and a smile to match both her and Alan.

Davey reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Les, what are you doing here?”

“Sarah’s busy today, so I was supposed to go over to Alden’s after school.”

“Sorry, Stepmom only told me while I was on my way out the door this morning,” Elaine sighed. “I’ll take them home. I just wanted to stop and get some flyers, since JoJo was talking about having us hand them out before school tomorrow.”

Jack shrugged. “They can stay.”

“Yeah, we need you at rehearsal to get ready for Sunday,” said Mush. “We only have tonight and tomorrow to get ready.”

“Tell you what,” JoJo grinned. “Do you guys have any homework?”

The boys shook their heads.

“Really?” Elaine and Davey said in unison, arching their eyebrows in identical expressions of incredulity.

“Really!” Les insisted.

“Okay, here’s the deal,” JoJo said. He knelt on the floor in front of the boys and rested one hand on each of their shoulders. “I have a very important job for you both. See, the thing is, you’re adorable. People like that. You see all these boxes of flyers?” The boys nodded. “We need to get as many of them handed out as possible. I bet that you two would be pretty good at that.” The boys nodded eagerly, beaming brightly.

“Isn’t that child labor?” Mush asked.

JoJo waved him off. He stood up and turned to Davey and Elaine. “We’ll take them off your hands. They can come out and pass out flyers with us, and we’ll keep an eye on them. They’ll be back by the end of rehearsal.”

“I don’t know if I trust you with my younger brother…” Davey said slowly.

“Seriously, we won’t let them out of our sight!” JoJo promised.

“Please can we go?” Les said. Alden turned a pleading gaze on Elaine, who sighed.

“You don’t take your eyes off him,” she said firmly, staring JoJo down. “And if anything happens to Al—or Les, either, for the record—I’ll chop off your kneecaps.” JoJo looked disturbed. “Davey?” he asked, turning to the pianist.

“I guess it’s okay,” Davey sighed. “Just… don’t let anything happen to him. Or I’ll  _ help _ Elaine chop off your kneecaps.

JoJo nodded eagerly. He pulled two bundles of flyers out of the box next to him and handed one each to the two boys. “If you guys can hand out all of these flyers, we’ll get you milkshakes before we come back.”

The boys took the papers, grinning brightly.

JoJo stood up. “Okay, Alden, you’re with me and Romeo. Les, you can go with Specs and Smalls.” He offered his hand to Alden.

“Be careful!” Elaine called after them as they left. Alden turned to wave back at her, and then they were all out the door, leaving only the band, Buttons, Finch, and Mush behind.

The others were back before the end of rehearsal. Specs held Les’s hand, the boy trudging wearily along beside him, his face a combination of elation and exhaustion. JoJo was a few minutes behind, carrying a half-asleep Alden. They put the boys at one of the club tables, and waited for rehearsal to end. When it did, everyone gathered back around JoJo and the boxes of flyers.

“Okay, everyone take a stack,” said JoJo. “Tomorrow morning, try and get to school as early as you can—an hour early, if you can manage it. We’ll find spots around the school’s property border to pass out flyers to the other students. Not  _ on _ the property, since Pulitzer said we can’t do that, but around it. Not technically breaking the rules.”

“Nice one, JoJo!” Blink laughed, patting him on the back. “Rub it in the old man’s face.”

“Pretty much,” JoJo admitted.

“Alright, so we’re getting there early tomorrow,” Jack said. “Anyone else have any business for tonight?” When no-one said anything, he glanced back over his shoulder at the boys sleeping at the table behind them. “Hey, Davey, where do you live?”

Davey told him, and Jack nodded. “Spot, you’re closest to there. You mind driving Davey and Les home?”

“Sure,” Spot nodded.

“Finch, you got Laine and her brother?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Let’s pack up and get going.”

.*.*.*.*.*.

The next morning found most of the teens at school over an hour before first bell. Jack, Race, and Albert were the last to arrive, being towed along by a disgruntled-looking Cora.

“Thanks for gettin’ ‘em here, Cor,” JoJo laughed.

“Yeah, you’s welcome,” Cora grumbled, glaring over her shoulder at the boys. “They’s not easy to get movin’ in the mornin’.”

JoJo pulled out a map of the school grounds with the property line marked on it and began stationing them around the edge of the property.

“Where did you even get that?” Jack asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” JoJo said.

“Somehow that makes me worry more.”

As other students started to arrive, they got to work. By the time they headed into the building, most of them had managed to hand out their entire stack of flyers. They headed inside, chattering happily in their groups of three as they went. After school, they returned to their posts around school, dashing out to catch as many other students as possible. The band, however, went straight to Medda’s club, with the exception of Tommy, who had to work. Mike went in his place, marking one of the few times where the twins were separated. Rehearsal flew by, and they packed up their equipment to keep in Medda’s storage until Sunday morning, taking only their instruments home with them.

Saturday was their day off. It always was, since Davey couldn’t rehearse on Saturdays. In addition, most of the others were busy working, since Saturdays were their only day off from school anyways.

Sunday morning, they were back at the club bright and early. Just like the week before, anyone not performing grabbed handfuls of flyers and hit the streets, while the others got started with their rehearsal. They finished at two and scattered off in all different directions for lunch. The groups were largely the same: Jack, Albert, and Race with Spot; Tommy, Buttons, and Crutchie; Davey and Cora; and Elaine and Finch dragging Mush behind them.

By five thirty, they were gathered again in the back alley, the nerves and pre-show jitters back to keep them company again. Race and Cora went through their little ritual again, going over the worst-case scenarios they could think of and coming up with solutions for just in case they happened. As he stepped away, Cora’s hands flew to her pockets.

“Oh no!” she cried, digging through them.

“What’s wrong?” Davey asked.

“I forgot my ear plugs,” Cora moaned.

“Oh, here!” Mush hopped off of the gate of Finch’s truck, where he’d been perched with Crutchie and Elaine, and crossed the circle to hand Cora a pair of ear plugs.

Cora smiled up at him gratefully. “Thank you!”

“No problem,” Mush grinned.

Ten minutes before showtime, Jack pulled them into a circle again. “Everyone ready?” he asked, looking around the group.

“Yeah!” Ike cheered.

“You’re not performing,” Mike said.

“Well, I’m still ready,” Ike shrugged.

The others laughed.

“Come on; hands in,” Jack said. They all stretched their hands into the middle of the circle, laughing and chattering. “Newsies on three. One, two, three”—

“NEWSIES!” everyone shouted.

“Here we go!” Race cheered. He grabbed Cora and gave her a little spin before heading for the club door.

Albert and Finch high-fived and followed after them. Most of the others trailed into the club—which was once again packed with other teenagers—leaving only Mush and Elaine in the alley.

“You ready?” Mush asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” Elaine sighed.

“Nervous?”

“Yeah. Always. Do you think it gets easier?”

“Only one way to find out.”

Elaine laughed and took Mush’s outstretched hand. He gave hers a squeeze and opened the door for her to enter the club.

.*.*.*.*.*.

The show flowed far more smoothly for everyone than the last one had. Any pre-show jitters vanished as the music started, and soon everyone in the club was on their feet and dancing along with the music.

**“Bop bopa-a-lu a whop bam boo**

**Tutti frutti, oh Rudy,**

**Tutti frutti, woo**

**Tutti frutti, oh Rudy,**

**Tutti frutti, oh Rudy,**

**Tutti frutti, oh Rudy,**

**A whop bop-a-lu a whop bam boo**

**Got a girl named Sue, she knows just what to do**

**I got a girl named Sue, she knows just what to do**

**She rock to the east, she rocks to the west**

**But she's the girl that I know best!”**

The high energy song was clearly a hit with the audience. Jack spotted Alan O’Dell and Darcey Reid out of the corner of his eye with a pair of girls he didn’t know, swing dancing in an aisle between tables. He glanced over his shoulder at Davey, who was grinning as his fingers flew across the keys. On Jack’s other side, Crutchie and Tommy were keeping pace, with a simple but fast-paced brass line.

**“Got a girl named Daisy, she almost drives me crazy**

**I got a girl named Daisy, she almost drives me crazy**

**She knows how to love me, yes indeed**

**Boy, you don't know what you're doin' to me!”**

After the next chorus, Crutchie launched into a sax solo that earned a fresh wave of cheering from the audience. Jack glanced over and saw the grin his friend was wearing behind the sax mouthpiece and found himself smiling as well. Jack turned his head a little further and nodded at the girls as they launched into the next chorus with him. They fell off for the final verse, which was the same as the second, and then Albert and Race joined them and Jack for the final chorus.

**“Got a girl named Daisy, she almost drives me crazy**

**I got a girl named Daisy, she almost drives me crazy**

**She knows how to love me, yes indeed**

**Boy, you don't know what you're doin' to me!**

**Tutti Frutti, oh Rudy,**

**Tutti frutti, woo**

**Tutti frutti, oh Rudy,**

**Tutti frutti, oh Rudy,**

**Tutti frutti, oh Rudy,**

**A whop bop-a-lu a whop bam boo!”**

The song stopped abruptly after the last line, and the whole band froze for a moment. They waited just long enough for a handful of confused murmurs to start up in the audience, then, a grinning Jack, Race, and Albert belted out the first lines of the next song:

**“Take out the papers and the trash**

**Or you don't get no spendin' cash**

**If you don't scrub that kitchen floor**

**You ain't gonna rock and roll no more**

**Yakety yak!”**

**“Don’t talk back!”** the girls and Crutchie echoed, along with quite a few members of the audience.

The rest of the band joined in as the first verse went on; the bass, drums, and piano first, then Tommy on his trumpet with a flourish at the end of each line. The sax was silent on this song, Crutchie lending his voice to the girls’ echoes instead.

**“Just finish cleanin' up your room**

**Let's see that dust fly with that broom**

**Get all that garbage out of sight**

**Or you don't go out Friday night**

**Yakety yak!”**

**“Don’t talk back!”** came the echo again.

After this verse was the trumpet solo. Just like Crutchie’s sax solo in the last long, this earned Tommy wild cheers from the audience. Over by the bar, Mush nudged Finch with his elbow. “That went over well!”

“Did you really think it wouldn’t?”

“Well, it’s a sax solo in the original song”—

“And you’re probably the only one who realizes that. He sounds great. You wrote him a great part. They all love it. Stop doubting yourself.”

Mush rolled his eyes, but turned his attention back to the stage.

**“You just put on your coat and hat**

**And walk yourself to the laundromat**

**And when you finish doin' that**

**Bring in the dog and put out”—**

Before they could finish the verse, the lights in the club went out. The instruments immediately stopped, and several people in the crowd screamed. When the lights came back on, the band traded confused glances, unsure whether they should continue playing or not. They didn’t get the chance to make up their minds.

A piercing whistle rang out over the crowd, followed by several more, and then Snyder and a handful of other uniformed cops were shoving their way through the teenagers. Snyder stalked up to Jack and his microphone and sneered down at the boy before snatching the mic away.

“Everybody out!” he yelled into the mic, making the speakers screech with the sound. There were a few whispers in the crowd, but no-one moved at first. When Snyder raised his hand, his officers took a step closer to the teenagers clustered in the main part of the club. Immediately, the teens began to clear out. It was practically a stampede, with the door as a choke point. The cops did nothing to ease the press of people, so Mike, Ike, Blink, and Romeo stepped in and did what they could. In a few moments, the only people left in the club were Medda’s staff and the band—plus Finch, Mush, and Buttons.

“I said to clear out,” Snyder snarled, taking a step closer into Jack’s face.

“We gotta pack up our equipment,” Jack spat back. He glared defiantly up into Snyder’s face, clutching his guitar protectively.

“Ten minutes,” Snyder growled. “Then you’re under arrest.”

“Under what charges?” JoJo appeared in the doorway.

“We ain’t done nothin’ wrong!” Albert added.

“We got noise complaints,” Snyder shrugged. “Had to shut you down. Anyways, the number of people packed in here was well over the amount allotted for fire safety regulations. Two violations.”

“I’m fairly certain that neither of those are arrestable offences, sir,” JoJo crossed his arms and took a step into the club.

“No matter what, they’re grounds to have you shut down and fined,” Snyder snapped. “Refusal to cooperate  _ will _ get you arrested, so you’d better hop to.”

“Come on, Jack,” Crutchie said softly. He hopped off his stool and walked over to rest a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Nothing we can do about it now. Let’s just go.”

Jack waited a moment longer, but finally nodded. The rest of the band jumped into action. Buttons and Finch descended on the stage and immediately set to breaking down the equipment. Cora jumped to help them, while the musicians worked on packing up their instruments. Elaine and Mush helped Spot with the drum set. As soon as there was enough to warrant a trip outside, they all loaded up with everything they could carry and took it out to the vehicles in the back alley. Several of them stayed outside to help load the equipment up, while the others went back inside to finish packing up and carry the rest of their things out.

A glance back inside the club showed a fuming Medda speaking with Snyder. She kept her voice low, clearly not wanting to cause any more of a scene, but her body language spoke volumes. Finally, Snyder left, looking smug, and Medda dismissed her employees. The band was gathered in the alley by this point, all of the equipment loaded and stored in the cars. Several of the other boys had come around from the front of the building after the police left, and joined them as Medda came out of the club.

“Well, I’m afraid there’s nothing to be done about that,” Medda sighed. “There’s no way to prove that the disturbance call was false, even though there’s no-one around here who would make a call like that. And the capacity complaint was, technically, legitimate.”

“Is he going to fine you for it?” JoJo asked.

“No, thankfully,” said Medda. “But whoever’s on the door in the future will have to count heads to make sure we’re not over like that again.”

“So you will let us keep doing shows?” Mush asked.

Medda smiled around the group. “Even with smaller crowds, I fully expect these evenings to continue making a great deal of profit. So, yes. There will be more shows. Assuming you’re all still in?”

“Of course we are,” Mush grinned.

Jack nodded firmly. “We said we wasn’t gonna let Pulitzer and Snyder win so easily, and we won’t.”

“Excellent,” Medda smiled. “Then I’ll see you, when, tomorrow? For rehearsal?”

“Tomorrow,” Jack nodded. Medda gave them another smile, offered a quick hug to Cora, and went back into the club, shutting the door behind her.

Tommy opened the door to his car for Crutchie to climb in. “Anyone else need a ride?”

In the end, Jack, Race, Albert, and Cora all crammed into Tommy’s backseat, JoJo, Davey, and Buttons left with Spot, and Mush and Elaine joined Finch in the rickety blue truck. As Tommy was pulling out of the alley, Jack happened to glance across the street, where Snyder and another man were standing.

“Tommy, wait!” he said, and the boy slammed on the brakes. They heard Finch’s truck groan to a halt behind them, and Finch leaned out his window to yell something at Tommy. Jack tuned them out and squinted at the men on the other side of the roadway.

“Is that..?” Albert asked.

“Principal Pulitzer,” Jack snarled.

They watched the principal smirk and lift one hand in greeting. He pulled a sheet of paper out of his pocket and unfolded it to reveal one of their flyers. Slowly, he reached up with the other hand, grasped the top of the page, and ripped it down the middle.

“Asshole,” Race mumbled.

“Yeah, well, we ain’t gonna let that scare us,” Jack snapped. “Let’s get outta here.”


	6. Chapter 6

The next day at school was quiet. They all kept their heads down, avoiding Pulitzer and his lackeys around the building. The Delancey brothers were the hardest to avoid completely, but, in their groups of three, they felt safe. After school, Elaine, Cora, and Crutchie left their last class late, having stopped to discuss an upcoming project with their teacher. The halls were nearly empty by the time they left, and they hurried through stopping at their lockers before leaving.

Outside, the autumn wind whipped around them, snatching at the girls’ skirts and whipping them around their legs, and tugging Elaine’s hair out of its neat curls. They grabbed their skirts and pulled them tight around their thighs to keep them in place, laughing into the breeze as they walked.

“If ever there was a day to have worn pants,” Elaine gasped, snatching again at her skirt as the wind picked up again.

“Another way to put that would be ‘the one day I decide to wear a skirt to school is the one day mother nature decides to make me regret it’,” Cora grumbled.

They were only a few blocks from the club when it happened. The girls were walking a few steps ahead of Crutchie, chattering about something that had happened in an earlier class, when he let out a strangled cry. The girls whipped around just in time to see Morris and Oscar Delancey dragging him into an alley.

“Hey, stop!” Cora yelled. She dropped her book bag and sprinted into the alley after them.

“Cora, wait!” Elaine called, even though she was right behind the other girl.

They entered the alley just in time to see the Delanceys throw Crutchie to the ground. “Stop it!” Cora shouted again, running forward to shove one of the twins from behind. He stepped out of the way easily, and she tripped over one of Crutchie’s legs, stumbling a few steps further before managing to stop.

Elaine hurried to Crutchie’s side and helped him to his feet. “What do you want?” she snapped, glaring defiantly up at the twins.

“Want? Nothin’,” Oscar shrugged. He snatched at Elaine, but she took a step back, pulling Crutchie with her.

“Just thought we’d have some fun,” Morris leered, pressing in on them.

“It’s been so long since we’ve gotten a good beatin’ in,” Oscar sighed, smacking his fist into the open palm of his other hand.

“Youse three won’t be much fun, but we’ll take what we can get,” Morris shrugged. He reached out for Crutchie, but Cora popped up between them, slamming her fist into Morris’s stomach. He doubled over, wheezing and gasping. “You’ll regret that, you little runt,” he snarled at her.

“Make me,” Cora said, cocking her fist back for another blow. Before she could swing, however, Oscar shoved her aside, slamming her into the ground of the alley. With her out of the way, he reached again for Crutchie, who took a step back—straight into the brick wall of the building behind him.

Crutchie swung his crutch around from the side, lifting it over Cora and Morris’s heads to slam it into Oscar’s shoulder. He made contact and tried to pull back, but Morris caught the crutch as it went over his head again and flung it down the alley, where it clattered against the cracked macadam and vanished into shadow. Morris climbed up and kicked Cora back to the ground with a foot planted squarely in the middle of her chest, leaving a dirty smear across her blouse. Oscar grabbed Elaine by the arm and flung her to the other side, and both boys grabbed onto Crutchie and dragged him into the middle of the alley.

When she hit the ground, Elaine let out a scream that echoed through the alley. The twins froze for a moment, afraid of the attention that would draw, but, when nothing happened, they traded a wicked grin and continued what they were doing. They kicked Crutchie’s legs out from under him and he crumpled to the pavement, held up only by Morris’s grip on his arm. Oscar sneered down at the smaller boy and pushed his sleeve up. He reached out and grabbed Crutchie by the front of his shirt, and slammed his fist into his face. Elaine screamed again, a wordless cry that might have been something along the lines of “stop” or “no”, but came out as only a ragged screech.

As soon as Cora got her breath back, she rolled up and onto her feet and flew at Morris Delancey. This time, he saw her coming and dragged Crutchie up, shoving him into Cora and sending them both to the ground. He and Oscar laughed, a horrible, evil noise that barely resembled the joy typically encapsulated in the sound. Their attention was so focused on the scene, however, that they almost didn’t see Elaine coming. Almost.

Hobbling on a twisted ankle, Elaine made for Oscar Delancey, letting out another furious screech. He caught a glimpse of her out of the corner of his eye and moved smoothly out of the way, sending her straight into the arms of his brother. Morris picked her up under his arm and hauled her down the alley, quite literally kicking and screaming. She swung her arms wildly, trying to land a solid hit on him but unable to do so from her position.

Oscar aimed a kick at Crutchie, burying his foot in the boy’s stomach and earning a pained cry in response. Crutchie curled in on himself, trying to protect himself from further blows, but Oscar had already lost interest in him. instead, he reached out and grabbed Cora by the wrists, dragging the stunned girl to her feet and pulling her along the alley, towards the wall Crutchie and Elaine had run into earlier. Cora dug her heels in, but Oscar was bigger and stronger than her and didn’t have much trouble in dragging her along.

Fortunately, Oscar was distracted enough by Cora that he didn’t see anyone else coming.

Racetrack Higgins’s fist slammed into the side of Oscar Delancey’s face hard enough to make the bigger boy see stars. He dropped Cora instantly and she hit the ground hard. Jack Kelly grabbed one of Oscar’s arms and Race grabbed the other, and they dragged him backwards, shouting, until he was clear of both Cora and Crutchie. They flung him to the ground, and Race reached down again, pulling Oscar up just far enough that his head wouldn’t smack into the pavement when Race punched him again.

Oscar’s shouting alerted Morris just in time. He dropped Elaine just as Mush slammed into him, stumbling over the girl’s body and sending both of them crashing to the ground. Albert pulled her out of the way even as she curled in on herself, arms wrapped around her head. He scooped her up into his arms and darted down the alley to deposit her on the ground next to Crutchie and Jack, snatching up Crutchie’s crutch as he passed it. He ran back towards where Mush and Morris were still on the ground, all flying fists and stray elbows, and pulled Morris off of Mush, shoving him towards where his brother had finally gotten away from Race and was struggling to his own feet in the mouth of the alley.

“Get out while you still can,” Albert snarled.

Morris didn’t hesitate. He stumbled down the alley and grabbed his brother, dragging him out into the street.

Albert helped Mush to his feet and brushed dirt off of his shoulder. “Nice one.”

Mush spit a mouthful of blood onto the ground. “Ow.”

“Yeah, that might be broken,” Albert pointed to his nose, which was dripping blood steadily.

They walked back to the others. Race had helped Cora up and was holding her close, letting her cry silently into his shoulder. Elaine was hunched into a ball against the wall, watching the others as silent tears streamed down her own face. Crutchie was bleeding from a gash across his forehead, his face already bruising and swelling. The blood dripped down his face and onto his shirt, adding to a growing stain on his shoulder. Jack pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and pressed it to Crutchie’s head.

“Everyone alive?” Albert said, leaning down to squeeze Crutchie’s shoulder.

“Close enough,” Crutchie squinted up at him.

“Elaine?” Albert glanced back at her. “You okay?”

She nodded. Mush knelt down next to her and offered her a hand up. She let him pull her to her feet, but nearly fell again when she tried to rest weight on her right foot.

“I think I sprained it,” she mumbled as Mush slipped an arm around her back for more support.

Race settled Cora on his back and stood up. “Let’s get you guys cleaned up at the club.”

“Good idea,” Jack said. He helped Crutchie to his feet and handed him his crutch. “You okay to walk?”

“Yeah,” Crutchie nodded. He took over pressing the handkerchief to his forehead and smiled half-heartedly up at Jack. “Just make sure I don’t run into anyone.”

“You got it,” Jack laughed.

Albert passed a handkerchief to Mush for his nose. “Pinch as hard as you can stand. Head back. Elaine, come on.” He crouched in front of her, and she climbed gingerly onto his back.

Mush grabbed Elaine and Crutchie’s bags from the ground as they went, slinging it over one shoulder. When they got out to the street, Jack paused to pick up Cora’s bag as well, and they headed for the club together.


	7. Chapter 7

Davey turned around as the door to the club opened, ready to join the others in their typical gentle ribbing of Jack, Albert, and Race for being late, but his comments died on his lips at what walked through the door.

Race and Cora came through first. Even with her face buried in Race’s shoulder, the filth covering Cora’s clothes was obvious, and Davey immediately knew that something was wrong. This conclusion was supported by the next people through the door: Crutchie, clutching a bloodied handkerchief to his head and walking half-supported by Jack. They were followed by Albert, carrying Elaine on his back, and Mush, holding another bloody handkerchief over his nose.

Henry was the first person to move, running for the first aid kit Medda kept behind the bar. The others shifted into action right after him, getting chairs to set Crutchie and the girls down in, getting them glasses of water, and wrapping ice in towels to help with swelling and bruises. Spot took Mush by the shoulder and led him into the bathroom. Albert set Elaine on one of the bar stools and helped her out of one of her shoes, grabbing one of the bundles of ice and holding it to her ankle. Race set Cora down and gave her a quick, tight hug before picking up another ice bundle and holding it to his knuckles.

Henry went straight for Crutchie, checking out the bleeding gash over his eye first. “This isn’t actually as bad as it looks,” he said. “I don’t think it needs stitches. The bleedin’s slowin’ too. Keep pressure on it until it stops.”

Davey noticed Cora’s eyes flicking around the room, like they couldn’t focus on anything. With everyone flitting around, chattering with each other, demanding answers, he couldn’t blame her. He stepped forward hesitantly and brushed a hand against her shoulder. She flinched away, nearly falling out of the chair.

“I’m sorry!” Davey said. “Come on. Let’s go over there.” He offered his hand to her. Cora took it, trembling, and let him lead her to the other side of the club, where they sat down in a corner booth. The high seats blocked out some of the noise the others were making, like they were in a bubble. Davey looked down and saw Cora picking at the skin on her hands, pulling it away from where it had split over her knuckles. “Hey,” he whispered, reaching out to take her hands. She pulled away from him with a little gasp. “Sorry, I’m sorry,” Davey murmured. He held his hands up, then set them on the table. “I don’t want to hurt you, or scare you at all. I just want to help. What can I do?”

Cora shook her head and stared down at her hands. Davey nodded and crossed his arms on the table, resting his chin on them, hoping that his presence alone would help Cora relax.

Back over by the bar, an argument was brewing. Davey glanced over, trying to catch up on what he had missed.

“That’s it,” Jack was pacing back and forth, clearly furious. “That. Is. It. This is done. We’re done—all of it.”

“Jack, come on, you’re not makin’ sense,” Race said, shifting the ice on his bruised knuckles.

“No,” Jack snapped, spinning on him. “I said before—the last time—that we should stop before things got outta hand, but youse convinced me to keep goin’. Well, now it’s over.” He stalked over to Elaine and lifted her arm, showing a nasty scrape that went from her elbow almost all the way down to her wrist under the ripped fabric of her sweater. “Look at this. All of youse. Look at this, and at Crutchie’s head, and Mush’s nose. I’m not okay with this.” Elaine yanked her arm back and cradled it against her chest, glaring at Jack. “I ain’t gonna let anyone else get beat up over  _ music _ .”

“What are you sayin’, Jack?” Mush asked, his voice low.

“It’s over,” Jack said, turning to face him. “All of this. The band. Over and done.”

“Jack, the Delancey twins have been beatin’ people up long before we started playin’ music and doin’ shows,” Albert protested.

“They didn’t start because of us,” Race added.

“Yeah, but we all became a target because of this,” Jack said. “Everybody knows that the Delanceys have been beatin’ up kids on Pulitzer’s orders since freshman year. Kids he couldn’t punish otherwise. Pulitzer wants to  _ control _ us, that’s why he’s got Snyder and his goons patrollin’ the school all the time. If he can’t control us through legit means, he’ll do it through the Delanceys.” He flung his arms out. “Well, Pulitzer can’t control  _ this _ . He tried—last night, he was the one who sicced Snyder on us, I’m sure of it. He’s doin’ whatever it takes to shut us down.”

“He’s doin’ whatever it takes, and he’s winnin’!” Mush snapped. “Because you’s lettin’ him! If we stop what we’re doin’ now, it’s tellin’ Pulitzer that we can be controlled, just like you was sayin’. It’s lettin’ him win and givin’ in to his pressure.”

“You’d really let him take away something that makes you as happy as music does over a couple of bullies?” Elaine asked softly.

Jack turned around and took her hands in his, looking up into her eyes. “If it would keep you—all of you, or even one of you—safe? Absolutely.” He kissed Elaine on the knuckles and released her hands, then turned around, looking at the rest of the group. “Look, youse may be okay with this, but I ain’t,” he said softly. “I ain’t gonna be responsible for anyone else gettin’ hurt.”

“You’re not responsible for this, Jack!” Finch insisted. “Pulitzer is. The Delanceys are. It ain’t your fault.”

“It’s none of our faults,” Spot said, taking a step closer. “The Delanceys is just a couple of meatheads. They ain’t thinkin’ for themselves. All they wants is to hurt other people. Pulitzer just gave ‘em an excuse to go after all of us. They was probably told that they could do whatever they wanted to us without gettin’ in trouble, and that just made us the easiest targets for them. The Delanceys have come after all of us before. It’s nothin’ new. Now we’s just easy pickins.”

“That’s the point!” Jack cried. “We’re easy targets to them. Why would they risk goin’ after anyone else when they could just keep pickin’ us off?” He grabbed Elaine’s arm again. “What’s it gonna take before we  _ do _ let them win? Broken bones? Worse? What if they put someone in the hospital? What do we do then?”

Elaine snatched her arm back again. “Do me a favor, Jack. Don’t use me as an illustration.” She slid gingerly off the barstool and limped towards the door, stopping to pick up her bag. “It’s clear we won’t be getting any rehearsing done today. I’m going home.”

Finch sighed. “I’ll drive you.” He stood up and took Mush by the arm. “You too. Let’s go.” Mush didn’t protest, but let Finch pull him out of the club.

They passed Medda on the way out, and she gasped when she saw Mush’s face. “What happened?”

“The Delanceys,” Mush sighed. “Everyone’s okay. Henry’s patching Crutchie up now. Jack’s pissed, though, so fair warnin’.”

“Can I assume you all won’t be rehearsing today?” Medda arched an eyebrow.”

“Yeah, but we’ll be back tomorrow, don’t worry,” Finch grinned.

“I look forward to it,” Medda smiled. She patted Mush on the shoulder as she passed, and nodded down the street. “You’d better hurry and catch your girlfriend before she gets too far away.”

Finch glanced down the sidewalk and sighed. “Elaine! Wait! I said I’d  _ drive _ you!”

Medda opened the door and stepped into the club. As advertised, the atmosphere was tense. Henry was taping up a gash on Crutchie’s forehead, Jack hovering nearby. Some of the other boys were close and seemed to be trying to help—Mike and Ike, Boots, JoJo, Specs. At the other end of the bar were most of the other boys—Spot, Blink, Albert, Race, Romeo, and Smalls. Medda looked around for Cora, concerned, but spotted Davey’s side in the corner booths and smiled to herself. She went to check on Crutchie first, and patted Henry on the shoulder. “That’s a nice job you’re doing there. If any of you need anything, I’ll be in my office.”

On the other side of the club, Davey glanced back down at Cora. She had her eyes squeezed shut, and her hands clamped over her ears. Davey raised a hand to brush against her shoulder, but thought better of it. “Cora? Cora, can you hear me?”

Cora opened her eyes slowly and looked over at him.

“They stopped fighting. It’s quieter now. It’s okay; you can uncover your ears.”

Cora moved her hands away for a moment. When Davey proved to be correct, she moved them down into her lap and started picking at her skin again.

“Hey, don’t do that,” Davey murmured, reaching out to take her hands in his. “It’s okay. You’re okay. No-one is going to hurt you. I promise. I won’t let them.”

Cora offered him a watery smile. Davey looked around, not really sure what to do. “Hey, Cora, what’s your favorite song? That we sing, at least. Or your favorite song to sing. Or perform. If… uh, if that makes sense.”

Cora stayed silent for a moment. Davey didn’t think she was going to answer, at first. But then:

“I like… I like when you sing Sinatra,” she said, her voice small.

“Oh yeah?” Davey grinned. “What’s your favorite Sinatra song?”

She paused. “Um… I can’t remember what it’s called. I liked the one you sang for your audition. That was real nice.”

Davey thought for a moment. “‘Moon River’? That’s a good one.”

Cora nodded. “It sounds real pretty when you sing it.”

Davey smiled to himself. “Thanks.”

They sat quietly for another minute. Cora shifted slightly and leaned into Davey. He very gently slipped his arm out from between them and wrapped it around her shoulders. “What other Sinatra songs do you like?” he asked finally.

Cora shrugged. “Lots. He’s got a nice voice. It’s soothin’. Like yours.”

Davey smiled down at her. “Thanks.” They lapsed into silence again. Once again, Davey was the one to break it, as he began to hum softly.

Cora glanced up at him as he began to sing quietly:

**“Some day, when I'm awfully low,**

**When the world is cold,**

**I will feel a glow just thinking of you**

**And the way you look tonight.”**

Davey didn’t miss the soft smile that was beginning to creep over Cora’s face, so he kept singing, emboldened now.

**“Yes, you're lovely, with your smile so warm,**

**And your cheeks so soft,**

**There is nothing for me but to love you**

**And the way you look tonight.”**

The rest of the club seemed to fade away. He could no longer hear the other boys talking—he wasn’t sure if it was because they had left, or if he was just so focused on him and Cora in their little bubble.

**“With each word your tenderness grows,**

**Tearin' my fear apart,**

**And that laugh, wrinkles your nose,**

**Touches my foolish heart.”**

The longer the song went on, the more Cora seemed to relax. She rested more and more of her weight against him, letting her head fall against his shoulder. Her breathing grew steady and even, and her hands relaxed in her lap, no longer tearing at themselves.

**“Lovely, never, never change,**

**Keep that breathless charm,**

**Won't you please arrange it?**

**'Cause I love you**

**A-just the way you look tonight!”**

Davey’s breath hitched in his throat and he stopped singing. Cora looked up at him, green eyes wide, but she didn’t say anything. Davey swallowed thickly and whispered the next words:  **“And that laugh that wrinkles your nose, it touches my foolish heart…”** He found himself leaning lower, drawn by some magnetic force to Cora. His voice cracked, but he kept going with the lyrics, his voice getting even softer.

**“Lovely, don't you ever change,**

**Keep that breathless charm,**

**Won't you please arrange it?**

**'Cause I love you**

**A-just the way you look tonight”**

He swallowed again and pulled away. Cora looked down at her lap again, her hands shifting like she was about to start picking at them again. Davey took a deep breath, leaned down, and quickly pecked her on the cheek. When she looked up at him again, her eyes were even wider, shining happily as a beautiful smile spread over her lips. Davey grinned back at her.

**“Just the way you look tonight.”**


	8. Chapter 8

**“Oh, the shark, babe, has such teeth, dear…”**

Spot Conlon looked around at the other boys gathered around him. “Jack’s right. We can’t let the Delanceys think they can get away with stuff like this anymore.”

**“And it shows them pearly white…”**

“Yeah? And what’s we gonna do about it?” Blink crossed his arms, staring down at Spot. “You got some brilliant idea you wanna share?”

**“Just a jackknife has old MacHeath, babe…”**

“I think it’s time the Delanceys got a taste of their own medicine,” Spot said. He cracked his knuckles and smirked slightly. “Anyone disagree with that?”

**“And he keeps it, ah, out of sight…”**

“What, you wanna go put the hurt on the Delancey twins?” Romeo asked. “You sure that’s a good idea?”

“Look, we’s got the advantage here,” Spot said. “It’s six to two, assumin’ none of you guys want to back out on me.”

**“You know when that shark bites with his teeth, babe…”**

“I don’t know, Spot,” Smalls looked around guiltily. “I ain’t a big fan of  _ startin’ _ fights. I don’t mind finishin’ ‘em, but… It ain’t exactly smart, is all I’m sayin’.”

**“Scarlet billows start to spread…”**

Spot pointed over to where Henry and Tommy were still patching up Crutchie. “We ain’t startin’, we’s finishin’.  _ They _ started it, when they went after our friends. We’ve let it go on too long; we shoulda done somethin’ after that first time they beat up Crutchie.”

**“Fancy gloves, oh, wears old MacHeath, babe…”**

Blink nodded. “Spot’s right. The Delanceys need to be taught a lesson, and who’s gonna do it if not us?”

“They need to learn that if they come after us, we go after them,” Spot said. “Look, the Delancey’s ain’t afraid of no-one. Let’s make them afraid of us.”

**“So there's never, never a trace of red…”**

Albert cracked his knuckles and nodded. “I’m in.”

“Me too,” Race said, glancing over his shoulder to where his sister was tucked up against Davey Jacobs. “I ain’t gonna let them get away with hurtin’ my family like that.”

Slowly, Romeo and Smalls began to nod as well.

Spot grinned and nodded. “Let’s go.”

**“Now on the sidewalk, huh, huh, whoo sunny morning, un huh,**

**Lies a body just oozin' life, eek!**

**And someone's sneakin' 'round the corner—**

**Could that someone be Mack the Knife?”**

They found Oscar and Morris Delancey outside of a corner store, licking their wounds and smoking their way through a pack of cigarettes. They grinned when they saw Spot and the others approaching and tossed away their still-burning cigarettes.

“Well, well, well. Looks like someone forgot to take out the trash.” Morris sneered down at Spot.

“Good to know you know your place,” Spot retorted, drawing himself up to his full height—which barely put him at Morris’s shoulder.

“Shaddup,” Morris rolled his eyes. He reached out and shoved Spot back into Race and Albert, but they caught Spot and set him upright.

“You know, Morris,” Spot took a menacing step forward, putting him toe-to-toe with the taller boy, “my friends and I have a bone to pick with you and your brother.”

“Oh yeah?” Oscar snorted.

“Yeah!” said Romeo, from behind Blink.

“And what might that be?” Morris laughed.

Spot slammed his fist into Morris’s stomach, and the boy doubled over, gasping, for the second time that day. “We heard you two went after some other friends of ours.”

Oscar suddenly looked very worried, as though the thought that Spot and the others weren’t just there to trade taunts had only just crossed his mind. He grabbed Morris’s arm and stumbled backwards, pulling his brother with him. Spot grinned wickedly, baring his teeth at the twins.

“Soak ‘em, boys.”

**“There's a tugboat, huh, huh, down by the river don'tcha know**

**Where a cement bag's just a-drooppin' on down.**

**Oh, that cement is just, it's there for the weight, dear,**

**Five'll get ya ten, old Macky's back in town!”**

The twins didn’t get far. The other boys chased them into a nearby alley—one which happened to dead end after about thirty feet. They spread out into a loose line, effectively trapping the Delancey brothers at the back of the alley. For what was possibly the first time in their lives, Oscar and Morris Delancey seemed genuinely scared.

**“Now did ya hear 'bout Louie Miller? He disappeared, babe,**

**After drawin' out all his hard-earned cash;**

**And now MacHeath spends just like a sailor—**

**Could it be our boy's done somethin' rash?”**

Spot moved first, darting forward to tackle Morris to the ground. Smalls and Race were at his back in a second, while Blink, Albert, and Romeo went for Oscar. There wasn’t much sound in the alley; Morris and Oscar Delancey weren’t about to let the others know that they were wearing them down.

**“Now Jenny Diver, ho, ho, yeah, Sukey Tawdry,**

**Ooh, Miss Lotte Lenya and old Lucy Brown,**

**Oh, the line forms on the right, babe,**

**Now that Macky's back in town!”**

The first sign of trouble came when Spot took a step back from Morris to catch his breath. Before he could do so, Morris got a leg up and kicked Spot square in the chest, knocking him flat on the ground.

“Spot!” shouted Smalls, before Morris yanked them in close and shoved them away, causing them to lose their grip on Morris’s arm. Race ducked the first wild swing at his face, but Morris grabbed him by the hair on the second and slammed his head into Race’s. The blond boy stumbled away, dazed, and tripped over Spot, tumbling onto the ground. Albert glanced over his shoulder when he heard Race fall, but didn’t get out of the way in time as Morris launched himself at the redhead, yelling incoherently.

Spot was the only one who saw the flash of silver in Morris’s hand. He didn’t get a chance to call out a warning—Albert was on the ground, clutching his side as his fingers turned bright red.

Everyone froze, even Morris and Oscar. Morris stared dumbfounded at the knife in his hand as an evil smile began to creep over his face. Romeo dropped Oscar’s arm and stumbled backwards, horrified. Blink’s face darkened, and he slipped a hand into his pocket, pulling out a switchblade.

Race broke the stunned silence. “Al?” he whispered.

Blink lunged for Morris, swinging at him with his knife. Morris dodged the swing, thrusting his own knife at Blink.

No-one saw Romeo fall; he was already on the ground by the time Race and Spot got to Albert. Spot saw Oscar running at Blink and Morris, a knife in his hand now, and jumped up, breaking into a full sprint towards them. He hit Oscar in a flying tackle, and they both went tumbling across the pavement. Before Oscar could get up, Spot was on top of him. He grabbed the wrist of Oscar’s knife hand with both of his and started slamming it into the pavement, trying to get the other boy to drop the blade.

Oscar screamed when his wrist broke. He also dropped the knife. Spot grabbed it and flung it away. It skittered across the pavement until it came to a stop… at the feet of a uniformed police officer. A uniformed police officer who was holding Smalls by the scruff of their neck.

Within minutes, all of the boys were on their stomachs on the ground, hands on the backs of their heads. Most of them were quiet, but not all. They could hear Race sobbing at the back of the alley, begging the officers to help Albert. Oscar was putting on a show about his broken wrist. Romeo was oddly quiet; Spot spared him a glance, and saw him sitting, paper-white, with his back to the brick wall behind him, clutching his bleeding shoulder. He could just see Albert if he craned his neck; the redhead was already pale, and now looked practically transparent, like he was about to fade into the blood-stained pavement under him.  _ Too much blood _ , Spot thought. He felt a crushing weight of guilt descend upon him.  _ Did I kill Albert Dasilva?  _

**“I said Jenny Diver, whoa, Sukey Tawdry,**

**Look out to Miss Lotte Lenya and old Lucy Brown,**

**Yes, that line forms on the right, babe,**

**Now that Macky's back in town!**

**Look out, old Macky's back.”**


	9. Chapter 9

The morning after the fight, Jack waited for Albert, Race, and Cora on the same corner he always did. He waited, and waited… and waited. When he heard church bells ringing the half hour, he scowled and swore to himself, and headed for school. At the corner where they usually met Elaine, he waited again, but not as long. It felt odd walking to school by himself. When he got there, he caught a breathless JoJo sprinting up the stairs as the bell rang.

“No Spot?” Jack asked.

“Never showed,” JoJo panted. “Haven’t seen him since yesterday.”

“Hey, did you see Race or Albert leave yesterday?” Jack asked.

“No,” JoJo said. “I saw them with Spot and a few of the others, but then they were all gone.”

Jack frowned, but hurried to his homeroom. Throughout the day, more and more of their friends turned up missing. Added to the list of Albert, Race, Cora, Elaine, and Spot were Mush, Blink, Romeo, and Smalls. By lunchtime, Jack was legitimately concerned, especially when he realized that Oscar and Morris Delancey were  _ also _ missing. Swearing himself up and down, he waited outside the cafeteria, directing the other boys to the nearest edge of the school’s property line, where they could technically meet without breaking Pulitzer’s rules.

“Okay, who knows somethin’?” Jack looked around the group. “Finch? You took Elaine and Mush home.”

“Elaine could barely walk on her ankle, so she said she was thinkin’ about stayin’ home today,” Finch said. “Mush was asleep when I left him. He wasn’t doin’ too good.”

“Okay, that’s two. Davey, what about Cora?”

Davey shrugged. “She didn’t  _ say _ anything about skipping, but she was exhausted and upset by the time I got her home. She was hoping Race would be there, but he wasn’t. I stayed with her for a little while, but I had to get home. Race was still gone when I left.”

Jack looked around the group. “Did anyone see Spot or any of the others leave last night?”

“They all left together,” Specs said quietly. “They talked for a while, and then left together, and Spot looked angry. They all did.”

Jack swore. “Idiots. They did somethin’ stupid.  _ How _ stupid is the question.”

“Considerin’ the Delancey twins are missin’ too? Pretty stupid.” JoJo tugged his sleeves over his hands and shivered as the wind picked up.

“I just hope they’re all alive,” Crutchie said softly. 

Jack looked down at him. Crutchie’s bruised face was twisted with grief and guilt. Jack grabbed him by the shoulder—a little harder than he meant to—and gave him a little shake. “Whatever those idiots did or didn’t do has got  _ nothin’ _ to do with you, you hear?”

Crutchie nodded, but didn’t look up.

Jack shook his head, scowling. “Look, if they ain’t at rehearsal after school, we go lookin’ for them.”

.*.*.*.*.*.

Fortunately, the first thing Jack saw when he walked into the club that afternoon was Racetrack Higgins. Smalls was seated next to him, their head down on the bar. Medda stood on the other side of the bar, looking worried.

“Race!” Jack yelled. He ran over to his friend and wrapped him up in a giant bear hug, nearly pulling him off of the stool. “Where you been? We was worried!”

“Jack,” Medda said softly.

Jack pulled away and looked Race up and down. Besides an ugly yellow and green bruise in the middle of his forehead, he seemed unhurt. Jack looked around. Smalls also looked okay, if distraught. “Where’s the others?”

“Jack…” Race sniffled. “We did something real dumb.”

.*.*.*.*.*.

Jack stood between Race and JoJo in the hospital corridor. It smelled of antiseptic and set his teeth on edge; all cold white and metal and sharp corners. It was quiet—too quiet—and loud—too loud—at the same time. The group of boys drew curious stares from the white-clad nurses and doctors, but no-one tried to stop them. Jack’s hands balled into fists, his nails digging into his palms, as he looked through the plate-glass window in front of them. Romeo was being seen to by a nurse; they had been told that he would be ready to leave shortly. 

It was Albert who was worrying. He lay stiller and quieter than Jack had ever seen him be in the past twelve years, whiter than the sheets around him. Jack realized absently that he’d never realized quite how many freckles Albert actually had, but now he was so pale that they stood out from his skin in stark contrast. And not just on his face, either—they covered his bare shoulders, arms, and chest as well. His red hair was the same color as the blood that spotted the bandage wrapped around his middle.

Jack worried his lower lip, peeling dead skin away until he tasted blood. “Is he gonna be okay?” he whispered.

“They won’t tell us anythin’,” Race mumbled. “They said they could only talk to his dad. But he’s at work, so we can’t ask him.”

Jack glanced over his shoulder. “Looks like Medda’s tryin’ to get somethin’ outta someone.”

When Romeo was released, they boys left the hospital. They waited outside for Medda, who came out looking extremely frustrated.

“Did they tell you anything about Albert?” Jack demanded.

“Give me a minute, Jack,” Medda put her hand up, and Jack backed down respectfully. “Romeo, are you alright?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Romeo nodded.

Medda looked around the group, her face grim. “If any of you ever get involved in something like this  _ ever _ again, you will no longer be welcome in my club. I love you all very much, but I won’t have you involved in crime in my place. Do you— _ all _ of you—understand that?”

“Yes, Miss Medda,” they chorused.

“Good,” Medda nodded firmly. “I spoke to Albert’s doctor. He couldn’t tell me much, since I am not related to Albert, but he did tell me that he would  _ most likely _ be just fine in a few weeks. He lost a lot of blood, but there wasn’t much damage, so once they give him another transfusion and he heals up, they expect him to make a full recovery.”

The boys let out a collective sigh of relief. Jack uncurled his fists, flexing his stiff fingers. Medda gave his shoulder a quick squeeze and headed off to get ready to open her club. “Race, Smalls, where are Spot and Blink?”

“They didn’t get released when we did,” Smalls said quietly. “Snyder was talkin’ about pressin’ charges on ‘em, since they was the ones beatin’ on the Delanceys when the bulls came and since Blink had a knife.”

Jack scowled. “That dumbass.”

“What about Oscar and Morris?” JoJo asked. “I’m not worried about them—I just want to know how bad it’s lookin’ for Spot and Blink.”

“Well, Spot broke Oscar’s wrist right in front of a cop,” Smalls sighed. “Morris didn’t look too hurt. But neither of them was in lockup, so I’m bettin’ we can assume they won’t be facin’ charges.”

“Yeah, not with Snyder the Spider on the case,” Jack spat.

“Seems unlikely,” JoJo agreed.

Jack stalked down the hospital steps, the other boys trailing after him like ducklings after their mother. Race hurried to catch up to Jack, reaching out to catch his arm. “Jack”—

Jack whipped around and grabbed Race by the lapels of his jacket. He shook him, hard, effectively shutting the other boy up. “Do you understand what you did?” Jack shouted. Passersby stared, but hurried along, not wanting to get involved in the scene. “Do you understand what almost happened?”

“We wasn’t thinkin’”—

“Yeah, that’s pretty obvious, ain’t it!” Jack shoved Race back and let him go; Race stumbled backwards and nearly fell, but Finch and JoJo caught him. Jack pointed back at the hospital. “Albert nearly  _ died _ . Do you understand that? He still could!” Jack pointed at Romeo. “He got stabbed. Oscar Delancey has a broken wrist. Spot and Blink are almost definitely goin’ to jail. And let’s rewind further, shall we? Mush has a broken nose—in addition to the black eye from a few weeks ago. Elaine’s got a sprained ankle, Cora’s been roughed up, Crutchie’s had…  _ how _ many black eyes, and worse? Are you all  _ really _ okay with this?”

The boys traded uncertain glances. “No, we’s not!” Smalls said, stepping forward. “That’s why we did what we did! We was tryin’ to show the Delanceys that they ain’t the only ones who can deal out the hurt. That if they keep comin’ after us, we’s gonna start goin’ after them.”

Jack stared at him, dumbfounded. “And you  _ seriously _ thought that was a good idea?”

Smalls shrugged. “The odds wasn’t too bad. Six of us, two of them. Didn’t expect them to have knives.”

“You know who else had a knife?” Jack snapped, stepping forwards to tower over Smalls. “Blink. Blink had a knife, and he pulled it. I’d be more surprised to hear if Spot  _ didn’t _ have one than to hear he did.”

“Spot didn’t say nothin’ about no knives to us,” Race stepped up.

“Yeah, he didn’t say anythin’ about them to Albert, either,” Jack snapped. He turned and walked a few steps away, running a hand through his hair. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Jack?” Crutchie called.

Jack turned back to the other boys. He stretched his arms out and shrugged helplessly. “I can’t do this anymore.” He turned again and walked away, leaving his friends silent on the sidewalk in front of the hospital.

.*.*.*.*.*.

Jack wasn’t surprised that someone followed him. He wasn’t surprised that it was Crutchie, either. He was the only one who would’ve been able to find him on the roof, except for maybe Race, and Jack had figured Race to be the least likely person to show up on this particular day. He’d been betting on either Crutchie or Finch showing up, maybe JoJo. Anyone else seemed unlikely.

“What do you want?” Jack asked.

Crutchie grunted and hauled himself up the last few rungs of the fire escape ladder. “Just to talk.”

“Well, I ain’t really in the mood for talkin’.”

“Come on, Jack”—

“What are you gonna say?” Jack snapped. “You gonna tell me you  _ like _ gettin’ beat on or somethin’? That it doesn’t bother you? I’m not stupid enough to believe that.”

Crutchie sat silently for a moment. “You’re right. I hate gettin’ beat up. It sucks. But it ain’t a good enough reason to give up on doin’ what I love. The others agree. We ain’t gonna let Pulitzer, or Snyder, or the Delancey twins tell us what to do. We’s not lettin’ them control us. That’s what this whole thing is really about—it’s not  _ just _ about the music, although, sure, that’s a big part of it. It’s about us all figurin’ out who we are, and whether we’s gonna let big men like Pulitzer how to live the rest of our lives, or if we’s gonna take a stand and tell it to him like it is.”

Jack shook his head and looked out over the city. “I just can’t do it anymore, Crutchie. I can’t keep watchin’ youse all get hurt like that. Yesterday was bad enough, but today? Seein’ Albert in that hospital bed? It made me sick. I can’t see anythin’ like that again.”

Crutchie nodded. “You’re right. That can’t happen again. We’s gotta get smarter about this. Figure out better how to keep everyone safe. Number one: no more goin’ after the Delanceys.”

Jack snorted. “I woulda thought that was obvious.”

“Me too,” Crutchie laughed. “But not a lot of people have accused Blink and Race and Albert and Romeo of bein’ particularly smart.”

Jack laughed too. He picked a piece of lint off of his pants and tossed it over the edge of the roof. “I don’t know, Crutchie. I just don’t know if I can keep goin’.”

“That’s okay, Jackie!” Crutchie leaned closer to him. “Because even if you can’t keep goin’, that’s what you got the rest of us for! To help you.”

Jack offered up a half-hearted smile, but shook his head again. “I think I just need some time to think things over. Clear my head, you know?”

Crutchie nodded and smiled sadly. “Sure, Jack.”

When Crutchie got to the bottom of the fire escape, Tommy, Race, and Finch were waiting for him.

“What’d he say?” Race asked.

Crutchie shook his head. “He said he needs time to think. He didn’t say how long.”

Race nodded and looked down at the ground, scuffing his toe against the asphalt. “Guess that makes sense.”

“What about the rest of us?” Tommy asked. “What’re we gonna do?”

Finch sighed and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “We’re gonna keep playin’.”

Crutchie nodded firmly. “We ain’t gonna let no-one stop us from doin’ what we love. Not Pulitzer, not Snyder, not the Delancey twins.”

“It’ll get better,” Tommy said. “We just have to remember that. It can’t stay bad forever.” He took a deep breath, then, in a voice that shocked the other boys, started singing softly:

**“That's life, that's what all the people say.**

**You're ridin' high in April, shot down in May—**

**But I know I'm gonna change that tune,**

**When I'm back on top, back on top in June!”**

Race laughed and clapped Tommy on the shoulder. “How come you’s never told us you could sing like that?”

Tommy flushed a little.

“He’s right, though,” Finch said. He picked up the next verse:

**“I said that's life, and as funny as it may seem,**

**Some people get their kicks stompin' on a dream!**

**But I don't let it, let it get me down,**

**'Cause this fine old world, it keeps spinnin' around”**

All three of the other boys jumped in for the chorus, falling into a harmony that would have made any barbershop quartet envious:

**“I've been a puppet, a pauper, a pirate, a poet, a pawn and a king—**

**I've been up and down and over and out and I know one thing:**

**Each time I find myself flat on my face,**

**I pick myself up and get back in the race!”**

Race jumped up onto a nearby crate and belted the next verse:

**“That's life, I tell you I can't deny it.**

**I thought of quitting, baby, but my heart just ain't gonna buy it.**

**And if I did think it was worth one single try,**

**I'd jump right on a big bird and then I'd fly!”**

They sang the chours again as Race hopped down from the crate and pulled the others in close, slinging his arms over Tommy and Crutchie’s shoulders; they in turn put their arms around him and Finch, and Finch slipped his arms around Tommy and Crutchie’s waists.

**“I've been a puppet, a pauper, a pirate, a poet, a pawn and a king**

**I've been up and down and over and out and I know one thing**

**Each time I find myself layin' flat on my face**

**I just pick myself up and get back in the race!”**

They broke apart after the chorus, and Crutchie sang the final verse as they headed back towards the street, sparing one glance upwards at the top of the fire escape before he left.

**“That's life, that's life and I can't deny it.**

**Many times I thought of cuttin' out but my heart won't buy it.**

**But if there's nothin' shakin' come this here July,**

**I'm gonna roll myself up in a big ball and die…”**


	10. Chapter 10

Jack stayed on the roof until well after the sun had set. He listened as the city below him hummed with life, distant yet still all around him. Exhausted by the bustle, he laid down on the rooftop, hands behind his head, and stared up at the stars. When he began to sing, he did so quietly, practically whispering the lyrics:

**“When this old world starts getting me down**

**And people are just too much for me to face**

**I climb way up to the top of the stairs**

**And all my cares just drift right into space…”**

Just like the rooftop itself, the song brought him no joy. His heart remained as heavy as it had all day, since he had walked alone to school. Nothing he had seen, heard, or said had changed the way he felt; even seeing Albert and Romeo in the hospital had somehow not made it worse.

**“On the roof, the only place I know**

**Where you just have to wish to make it so**

**Let's go up on the roof…”**

He choked back tears and sat up, looking around one last time. It felt like everything was gone. His friends, his music, his  _ life _ … In a single day, it had all fallen apart.  _ It was too good to last. I should’ve known that. _ He took a deep breath and forced down the sob that threatened to break free at the realization, then stood up and headed for the fire escape. At the top of the ladder, he paused and looked up at the sky one last time, whispering the last lines of the song to himself.

**“Right smack dab in the middle of town**

**I've found a paradise that's trouble proof**

**And if this world starts getting you down**

**There's room enough for two**

**Up on the roof…”**


End file.
